


I Just Want to Be Loved

by half_rice



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Featuring Doyoung as an "angel", Fighting minor gods, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-08-05 14:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16369652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/half_rice/pseuds/half_rice
Summary: And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.- Bottom, A Midsummer Night’s Dream (3.1.143-146)Cause I just want to be, I just want to be loved- NCT 127, Replay (PM 01:27)Everyone in this world has a soulmate. Ten doesn't like this system, because Johnny isn't his. A johnten johnjae taeten jaeyong soulmates AU with intervention from several minor gods. In short, a mess.





	1. Fate Really Hates Ten

**Author's Note:**

> the working title for this is A Midsummer Night's Dream In A Dream LMAOOOO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come on, Ten, we handle divorce cases on the daily. Haven’t you figured out that this god of fate is kind of a hack?”
> 
> Ten thinks about the open circle on his wrist, then about Johnny’s warm, freshly-baked cookie smile. “They’re kind of an asshole, yeah.”

Ten’s never been big on the whole _soulmate_ thing.

The thing is, he knows that everyone was born with this C-shaped birthmark on their wrists, and when they meet their soulmate, it’ll close into a ring shape. He knows there’s some crusty old god of fate out there who somehow knows everyone’s _perfect_ match. He knows his parents are soulmates and they’re really happy together and that _his_ soulmate would make him really happy, too, but honestly, he doesn’t care.

 _Romance is overrated_ , Ten figures as he bikes to work. _Well, so is dick, but at least it’s easier to get._

He parks his bike, chains it to the bike stand, then enters the office building while heaving a sigh.

“Good morning, Ten.” One of his coworkers greets him as they step into the elevator together.

“Morning.” Ten grunts in reply, marking around thirty unopened emails as read.

“Did you hear? We’ve got a new case. I heard it’s a super big deal. Probably a celebrity or a politician.”

Ten’s not sure he’s supposed to be too happy about a divorce case, so he says, “That’s great.” in a noncommittal monotone.

His coworker, used to Ten’s half-assed replies at this point, just hums cheerfully in reply as she holds the door open for someone carrying three trays of Starbucks.

“Thanks!” The guy says, stumbling into the elevator. The coffee sloshes around dangerously in the cups, but thankfully doesn’t spill onto anyone’s freshly pressed shirts.

“Watch it, dude.” Ten’s coworker snaps.

“Sorry.” The guy with three trays of coffee says.

Ten realizes that the guy’s voice is kind of familiar, so he looks up from his phone to find his ex-boyfriend humming along to the elevator music.

 _Well shit._ Ten looks back down at his inbox, hoping his ex didn’t notice or see him.

“Ten?”

_Well fuck._

Ten plasters on a plastic, squareish smile as he looks up from his phone. “Oh, hey…”

“I’m Johnny,” Johnny says, like he thinks Ten might’ve forgotten his name.

“Yeah, I know.” Ten couldn’t forget Johnny’s name even if he rinsed his brain with thick bleach.

“So, uh… what’re you doing here? I mean, what’s up with you lately? You work here?”

Ten punches the number of the next floor on instinct, thanking every god when the elevator comes to a stop. “Oh, sorry, this is my stop.”

Ten’s coworker lifts an eyebrow, but says nothing when Ten gets off at a floor with a huge sign for the _Morning Star Greeting Cards & Gift Co_.

“Really? Me too!” Johnny laughs.

Ten has no choice but to hold the elevator doors open while Johnny carries his tray of coffees.

“You work here too?” Johnny asks while Ten watches the elevator doors close hopelessly behind them.

“No, I, uh, I just uh, I needed to use the bathroom,” Ten says, hoping this floor has a bathroom outside the greeting card company’s office, or he’s going to look like a damn fool.

“Oh, the only bathroom on this floor’s inside the office,” Johnny nods towards the glass door of the _Morning Star Greeting Cards & Gift Co_.

“Oh.” Ten looks like a damn fool.

“I could let you in, I don’t think anyone will mind,” Johnny says, balancing the three trays on one arm while he fishes around his pockets for his ID.

“No, I’ll just go to another floor.” Ten says, turning quickly on his heel.

“No, it’s really okay! There’s no one in the office yet at this time,” Johnny assures him, somehow managing to beep in and open the door with one hand.

“No, I’m good, thanks, I’ll just go-”

“Come on, Ten,” Johnny says, with that little whine in his voice that Ten really hates. “It’s really fine.”

Ten sighs and steps into the office. He regrets it immediately, because he’s bombarded by inspirational quotes and bright colors from every direction, and it’s making him nauseous.

“The bathrooms are that way,” Johnny says, pointing with his free hand.

“Thanks.”

“No prob,” Johnny shifts the three trays in his arms to shoot Ten a finger gun. “Let me know when you need to get out again, I’ll just put these down-”

“I can let myself out, thanks.”

“Okay.” Johnny smiles again. "It was nice seeing you, man. Who’d have thought you’d be working here, too? I mean, not _here_ here, just here in this building.”

“Yeah.” Ten says sharply. “What a coincidence.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Everything was a coincidence with Johnny.

Ten met Johnny on the bus one morning, because Ten had woken up late and missed his train. Johnny had given up his seat for Ten, who wasn’t a pregnant woman or a senior citizen. Ten had found that gesture weird but nice.

Ten didn’t fall in love at first sight, because that would go against all of his principles, but Johnny was the type of guy to talk to twinky strangers on public transportation, so Ten fell in love after 15 minutes of being stuck in traffic.

Ten didn’t expect to see him again, but he ran into Johnny while shopping for his mom’s birthday present a week later. Then again while he was walking his friend’s dog in a completely different part of town. Then again when Ten woke up on time to take the train, though Johnny was headed in the opposite direction.

Johnny wasn’t stalking him, Ten was sure, because he just wasn’t the type. It was all just honest-to-goodness coincidences.

Ten checked his wrist every time Johnny left, just to check if the birthmark had closed. It never did, not even after Ten drummed up the misplaced self-confidence to ask Johnny out, not after they had their first kiss, and not even after they decided to give up on saving their virginity for something or the other.

That was a big deal. Johnny was the romantic, saving-himself-for-his-soulmate type. Ten couldn’t wrap his mind around it, mostly because his mind was preoccupied wrapping itself around Johnny’s thighs.

“What if you meet your soulmate right before you die?” Ten had asked after one of their dates. “Then you’ll never have sex, like, _ever_.”

“Then I won’t.” Johnny had shrugged, though his expression looked a bit unsure.

That _tiny_ bit of doubt was all Ten needed. Ten was an expert at getting what he wanted, so two weeks of shameless suggestions later, he was lying in Johnny’s bed covered in sweat and out of breath.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” Johnny had laughed, poking Ten in the ribs.

“Nothing.” Ten had swatted his hand away.

“I love you.” Johnny had said. It wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t hard to get Johnny to say ‘I love you.’ All Ten had to do was _breathe_ , really.

“I love you, too.” Ten had said, sidling up to Johnny though they were both a sticky, sweaty mess. He’d taken a surreptitious glance at Johnny’s wrist, but even in the dim light from the window, it was clear that his birthmark was still an open half-circle.

Ten had peeked at his own then, which was exactly the same. _What a coincidence._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Your schedule for today is pretty open,” Ten says, going over the calendar on his iPad. “Should I call the salon and set an appoint-”

“Have the others told you about the new client?”

His boss, the head of the law firm he worked at, lifts his eyebrows, waiting for Ten to reply.

“Nope.” Ten says, adding a quiet “Sir” for good measure.

His boss snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You should gossip with the others more often, Ten. What good is a personal assistant who isn’t spying on everyone?”

Ten frowns. “Someone said something about it, but I wasn’t really paying attention. Said they were a big deal? I think? Who are they anyway?”

“Me.” His boss adjusts the little plaque on his desk that reads, _Atty. Kim Kibum_.

Ten chokes. “ _What_?”

“My husband and I are getting a divorce.” The lawyer shrugs. “I don’t trust anyone not to fuck it up but myself.”

“But-” Ten doesn’t know how to say that, _Just last week you had me scouring every luxury mall in the fucking country looking for a stupid fucking watch for your fucking husband! What the fuck!_

Ten decides to say, “Aren’t you two soulmates?”

His boss sighs as he leans back again in his chair, lifting the hem of his sleeve to laugh dryly at the dark circle on his wrist. “Come on, Ten, we handle divorce cases on the daily. Haven’t you figured out that this god of fate is kind of a hack?”

Ten thinks about the open circle on his wrist, then about Johnny’s warm, freshly-baked cookie smile. “They’re kind of an asshole, yeah.”

His boss laughs again, then glances at his reflection in his PC monitor. “Why didn’t you tell me my hair’s gotten this long? Could you set an appointment for a haircut? Jesus, I look so bad I’d divorce _myself_ right now.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten yawns as he steps into the elevator later that evening, already fishing around his bag for the keys to his bike chain.

He doesn’t look up when the elevator stops at a lower floor and a crowd of people invade his breathing space.

“…the party on Friday’s going to be so _lit_!” One of the greeting card company dweebs says.

Ten rolls his eyes, still rummaging for his keys. Then he realizes that one of the greeting card company dweebs is too close to him, and he looks up. He looks up for a whole while, because said dweeb is really tall.

“Hey.” Johnny says with a very small wave, but Ten’s eagle eyes don’t get a glimpse of the birthmark on his wrist.

Ten’s not sure why he cares whether Johnny’s met his soulmate or not, but he knows it’s likely because he’s being a petty, miserable bitch who doesn’t want Johnny to… win? At life?

“Oh. Hi.”

“How’re you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Three people from the game design company downstairs step into the elevator, pushing Ten and Johnny pretty much flat against each other.

“Sorry.” Johnny whispers, trying to back away from Ten without knocking into the woman behind him.

Ten’s been pushed into the back corner, sandwiched between Johnny and the smelly elevator wall. This is why he hates working on the top floor, he’s always the first in and last out, and always getting cozy with this disgusting, greasy mirrored wall.

One of the game designers stumbles when the elevator stops at the third floor, pushing everyone to Ten’s corner.

Johnny braces a hand against the greasy mirror to stop himself from crushing Ten. “Sorry,” He whispers again.

“Ok.” Ten says, shutting his eyes on instinct when Johnny’s breath fans against his face. Suddenly he doesn’t want to avoid Johnny anymore. He’d forgotten what it was like to have Johnny this close to him. “So you’re working at the greeting card place?”

“Yeah, I just started today.” Johnny says in a polite whisper. “You?”

“The law firm upstairs.”

“Right, you finished law school last year,” Johnny nods.

“No, I didn’t.” Ten pulls his mouth into a straight line. He doesn’t like talking about it, but he’d dropped out of law school a little after he and Johnny had broken up. Not that there’s any connection between the two. It’s a coincidence, like all things related to Johnny.

 “Oh.” Johnny’s cheeks flush bright pink. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ten says. _It’s not your fault. Well, not completely. No, it’s not your fault at_ all _, what am I thinking?_

They don’t say anything for a few minutes, leaving the elevator in silence but walking side by side. The people ahead of them are flustered about something or the other, so Ten pretends to be really interested in whatever it is they’re worried about.

A flash of lightning lights up the street ahead for a moment, and it’s pouring like someone’s emptying a bucket over the city.

Ten reaches for his bag, then realizes he’s left his raincoat at home. “Shit.”

Ten looks down at his bag, seeing the poor little iPad inside as if by x-ray vision. The tablet’s going to get drenched if he attempts to bike home in this rain, then he’ll spend the weekend drying it in a bag of rice and praying to every god that it’ll work again.

“What’s up?” Johnny asks.

“I left my raincoat at home.” Ten groans.

“Aw man, same! How are we going to get home now?” Johnny starts laughing. Then he lifts his hand for a high five.

Johnny’s sleeve has slid down just a little bit, but Ten finds himself staring.

On Johnny’s wrist, clear as day even in the dim light of the building lobby, is a perfect, closed circle.

⭕


	2. I Saw An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then who the fuck are you?”
> 
> “I’m uh…” The man grimaces for a moment. “You could say that I’m an _angel_.” 
> 
> “I didn’t know there were buck-toothed angels.” 
> 
> The angel gasps and the aura of light around him blinks, deeply offended. “Well I never- That was uncalled for.”

“Aw come on, man, don’t leave me hanging,” Johnny laughs, waggling his hand. He’s still waiting for Ten to high-five him.

Ten snaps out of it and slaps his palm half-heartedly against Johnny’s.

“You wanna split a cab?” Johnny asks, jumping on his heels when thunder rumbles outside.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ten’s not sure what his plan is when he steps into the cab (while Johnny holds the door open for him, of course). He listens to Johnny give directions to an address different from the one he’d lived at when they were dating, his frown growing deeper.

“Ten.”

Ten blinks. “Huh?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Oh, uh,” Ten gives his address.

“Still the same place, huh?” Johnny asks when the cab starts down the avenue.

“Yeah,” Ten says. He’s wondering how he’s going to steer the conversation to ask about the goddamn circle on Johnny’s wrist without sounding too… pitiful and lonely.

“How’s Mrs. Takeuchi doing?”

“One of her cats died a couple months ago.” Ten says, all but rolling his eyes when he remembers how fond his elderly neighbor was of Johnny. She’d make a shit-ton every time she cooked, then give Johnny around ten tupperwares of food and none to her own actual children and grandchildren. “Mocha? If you remember her.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Johnny pouts.

“Yeah, but she got like 7 new kittens, I don’t know where from, but they’re noisy as _fuck_.” Ten groans.

“Noisier than you?”

Ten lifts an eyebrow. “Excuse you, _you’re_ the one who doesn’t know how to keep it down during-”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, I’m not-” Johnny’s entire face goes red. “I didn’t-”

“Chill, I’m just messing with you.” Ten laughs, feeling comfortable in his tiny, petty victory. Johnny’s brow has started to sweat, and he’s twiddling his fingers.

_I’ve got him now_.

Ten looks out the window at the passing buildings, pretending to be interested though they’re whizzing by too fast for him to even read their signs. They’re just two blocks away from his apartment now, so he gives up on subtlety and finesse.

“Are you seeing anyone these days?” He asks.

Johnny laughs, but it’s a _Wow my life really sucks_ kind of laugh. “Nah, I haven’t got the time. You?”

_Good._ Ten grins. “No, I’m not, either.”

A heavy silence falls over the cab for the next two blocks, until the brakes whine as it pulls to a stop outside Ten’s apartment building.

Ten slings his bag over his shoulder, but doesn’t budge. “Mrs. Takeuchi would love to see you again.”

“Really now.” Johnny says, sounding a little distant, like his mind is wandering everywhere but inside this taxi.

_Perfect_. Ten puts one hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t pull on it. “And I just bought a new mattress. I haven’t broken it in yet.”

Johnny snaps out of his daze to snort. “Seriously, Ten, could you be any less subtle-”

“I could.” Ten turns to him, leaning across the space between them. “Wanna fuck for old time’s sake?”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten’s not sure he cares about meeting his soulmate anymore, because he’s pretty sure no one would be a better fuck than Johnny. Ten went through this phase shortly after they broke up where he tried out all those “other fish in the sea,” but he never felt as good as he did right now.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good,” Ten gasps out, collapsing against Johnny’s chest as he comes. “ _Fuck_!”

Johnny wraps his arms around Ten, holding him close. “Mrs. Takeuchi definitely heard that.” He whispers.

“Sorry!” Ten shouts at the wall between Mrs. Takeuchi’s kitchen and his bed.    

Johnny starts laughing, and Ten leans up to press a small kiss to his double chin, which only makes Johnny laugh harder.

Johnny manages to sober up enough to say, “I still love you, you know?”

“I love you, too.” Ten says, before pressing their mouths together in a slow, passionate kiss.

Johnny lets out a little whine into Ten’s mouth when Ten’s dick slips out of him, but shifts to make space for Ten to lie down next to him on the tiny mattress.

“Why’d we break up in the first place?” Johnny asks, running his fingers tenderly along Ten’s side.

Ten’s about to crack a joke about Johnny’s dick, then he frowns. He really can’t remember why they broke up. He’s not pretending or being delusional – maybe he is, he just doesn’t know – but he can’t remember them even breaking up in the first place. In his mind, it’s like one moment Johnny’s practically living in his apartment, and the next they’re not even speaking to each other.

The bedside lamp is dim, but Ten looks over to find Johnny frowning as well.

“What’s wrong?” Ten asks, knowing full well what’s wrong.

“Nothing.” Johnny shakes his head, knowing full well that Ten knows he’s lying.

Ten lays a hand on Johnny’s hip. “You can’t remember either, can you? How we broke up?”

“No. I can’t even remember _when_ we broke up. Two years ago, right? Or one year? Has it just been a couple months?” Johnny’s frown deepens, drawing his eyebrows almost together. “What the fuck? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Ten says. “This is really fucking weird and I don’t think it’s our fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think someone’s messing with us.” Ten casts an accusatory glance at the ceiling above them, trying to glare straight up at the heavens.

“As in, the gods?” Johnny slaps Ten playfully on the arm. “They don’t have time for that kind of bullshit, Ten.”

Ten reaches over and grabs Johnny’s wrist. “When did you get this?”

Johnny’s eyes widen slowly, then bug out suddenly. “ _WHAT_?”

Ten drops Johnny’s wrist. “What do you mean, _what_?”

Johnny starts rubbing frantically at the circle on his wrist. “When did this happen?”

“I don’t know with you! It’s _your_ birthmark!”

“I didn’t have this this morning! I swear!” Johnny sits up, still rubbing at his wrist. It’s getting red, but the circle’s still intact.

Ten narrows his eyes. “So it’s someone you met today!”

Johnny starts laughing, a desperate man’s laugh. “I met the _whole company_ today!”

“Why are we shouting!” Ten flops back onto the mattress irritably.

“I don’t know!” Johnny cups his hand to the wall and says, “Sorry, Mrs. Takeuchi!”

Ten shuts his eyes, trying to get everything arranged in his mind. Johnny was his ex, he’s sure they started dating 3 years ago, when he was still in law school. Johnny had been an architect working at a small firm. That much Ten was sure of.

_But when did we break up? And why? I wouldn’t just break up with Johnny for no fucking reason, he’s so good in bed…_

_…Aaaand he’s really kind and sweet and I love him more than anyone in the whole world_ , Ten adds self-consciously, in case anyone’s listening in on his thoughts.

Ten frowns. He hopes someone’s listening in on his thoughts, and that person is the god of making people forget about breaking up with their boyfriends. _FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE! F. U. C. K! Y. O. U!_

“Ten?” Johnny asks, his voice soft and small.

Ten opens his eyes, to find Johnny’s looking anxiously at him. “What?”

“Are you mad at me?” Johnny asks, in that timid, throaty voice.

“What _for_?”

“For forgetting about how we broke up, or meeting my soulmate even though I didn’t even notice, or-”

“Why would I be mad at you for that?”

“I don’t know, you seem really angry?” Johnny asks, already edging away from Ten on the bed, like he’s worried Ten will attack him.

Ten realizes he must look pretty scary, so he tries to soften his expression, but that’s just not how his face works, so he explains, “It’s not you I’m mad at. And I forgot everything, too. And again, it’s not your fault.”

“So,” Johnny stretches his arms gingerly over the pillows. “If we never actually broke up, does that mean _technically_ we’re still together?”

Ten smiles as he snuggles up against Johnny. “Technically, yes, definitely.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

The next morning, Ten’s bent over the counter, his eyes fluttering shut as Johnny pounds into him from behind. It feels so good that it’s like time trickles down to a halt.

Ten opens his eyes. _Nope_. Time has _definitely_ stopped. The electric fan is frozen in mid-turn, the papers it’s blowing are frozen in the air, and poor Johnny is frozen behind Ten, his hand rigid around Ten’s waist.

“HOLY SHIT SORRY!” A voice says from somewhere in the room, like it’s playing over a PA Ten’s apartment most certainly does _not_ have.

Ten blinks and suddenly the fan is turning again, the papers are flying, and Johnny’s grip tightens on his waist as he drives himself into Ten again.

“Oh, oh my god, oh my god,” Johnny moans, his pace getting erratic as he gets closer. “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Go, baby,” Ten grips the counter in confused silence as Johnny finishes inside him.

“Oh my god, I love you, I love you so much, baby, you’re so good…” Johnny’s voice trails off, his lips pressing to the back of Ten’s shoulder. “Baby…I love you.”

“I love you too.” Ten spins around the second Johnny pulls out. “But did you see that?”

“Yeah, baby, you’re amazing,” Johnny kisses him sloppily. “So amazing.”

“No- I mean, _thanks_ , I know,” Ten smirks for a moment. “But like, seriously, time stopped-”

“It was great for me too?” Johnny asks, looking concerned but still way too dazed.

“Everything stopped, like the X-men movie!” Ten says, trying to illustrate it with wide arm gestures. “And then there was this voice-”

“Did you smoke something before I woke up?”

“No!” Ten slaps Johnny on the arm. “I’m serious! Something super fucking _weird_ just happened! I’m freaking the fuck out!”

Johnny reaches out and pulls Ten into a sticky embrace. “Shh, baby, we’ll-”

Ten waits for him to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t. His arms have gone rigid around Ten, who scrambles away, terrified. Johnny’s mouth is frozen in mid-speech, and his eyes are still trained on the spot where Ten had just been.

“Why are you _still_ naked?!” That voice echoes again, over the nonexistent PA.

Ten grabs a towel and covers Johnny up while he looks around, frowning. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Dude! Put something _on_! PLEASE!” The voice replies.

Ten reaches for a towel to put around himself. “Stop this, it’s really fucking weird-”

“Um, I think it’s weird for _both_ of us-”

“Who the hell are you?” Ten’s whirling around looking all over his apartment. “Show yourself!”

“Are you sure?” The voice asks. “Cause like, wouldn’t it be _more_ awkward if I were here, and he’s also here and you’re both _naked_ -”

Ten reaches for a kitchen knife. “Come the fuck out and let’s talk.”

“Okay, that’s just- Now why would I show myself if you’re carrying a knife? Put the knife down!”

Ten drops the knife on the counter. “Fine. Now get your ass here.”

There’s this blinding flash of light, like one of those professional photographer’s lights, and Ten’s still reeling from it when he realizes there’s another man in the room with them.

The man is really white – he’s not, like, _ethnically_ white, but he’s wearing white jeans and a white denim jacket, he’s got this aura of white coming off him like steam, and his wide smile is very, very white.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ten reaches for the knife. “Are you the god of fate, because I seriously-”

“Woah! Dude! Calm down!” The man backs into the wall, hands up in surrender. “I’m not the god of fate! I’m not him! He’s a different guy!”

Ten points the knife at him anyway. “Then who the fuck are you?”

“I’m uh…” The man grimaces for a moment. “You could say that I’m an _angel_.”

“I didn’t know there were buck-toothed angels.”

The angel gasps and the aura of light around him blinks, deeply offended. “Well I _never_ \- That was uncalled for.”

“Get out of my house.” Ten makes a jab with the kitchen knife.

“Woah, dude, chill, what the fuck-”

“Was it you?” Ten closes in on the angel, holding the knife out in front of him. “Did you make us think we broke up?”

“Oh, haha, _what_?” The angel’s fake laugh grates against Ten’s soul, if he’s got one. “That _totally_ wasn’t me. Swear.”

“YOU BUCK-TOOTHED _BITCH_!” Ten shouts, lunging at the angel.

The angel squeals as he backs up into the wall, eyes screwed shut. “No please don’t hurt me!”

“WHAT THE HELL!” Johnny shouts from behind Ten.

Ten’s distracted enough for the angel to swat the knife out of his hand.

“Johnny, this is the asshole who’s been fucking with our memories-” Ten starts until the angel waves a hand, clamping Ten’s mouth shut.

“Please, let me explain myself.” The angel begs.

Johnny clutches at the towel around his waist, frowning at Ten, who’s trying to scream with his mouth shut, then at the angel, who looks like a guy from some detergent ad. “Uh… okay. Go.”

“Oh good, _someone’s_ not a fucking savage.” The angel sighs, sinking into the nearest chair. “You might wanna sit down, this is a long story.”

Johnny frowns, pulling Ten towards him and putting one protective arm around the smaller man. ‘Protective’ here in the sense that he’s protecting the white denim guy from getting stabbed by his boyfriend.

“Make it short.” Johnny says. “We really need a shower.”

“Ew.” The angel makes a face.


	3. This Angel Really Sucks, Huh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anyway the whole soulmate system is falling apart, and we don’t know why. Soulmates aren’t staying together, and people aren’t so keen on looking for their soulmates in the first place-”
> 
> “Maybe because it’s antiquated and tyrannical-” Ten starts, before Johnny squeezes his thigh, shutting him up.

“First things first,” Johnny says sternly. “Unzip Ten’s mouth.”

The angel purses his lips for a moment, looking warily at Ten.

“ _Now_.” Johnny says.

“Okay, okay, fine, just keep him quiet.” The angel waves a hand and Ten immediately lets out a colorful string of curses.

Johnny sits on the chair opposite the angel, pulling Ten onto his lap. “Come on, baby, let’s hear him out.”

“Why?” Ten frowns.

“Morbid curiosity?” Johnny shrugs with an easy smile that melts Ten’s resolve.

“Fine.”

The angel waves his hands in front of them. “Hellooo? I’m still here?”

“How could we forget.” Ten narrows his eyes, throwing kitchen knives with his eyes.

“Just say what you’re going to say and go,” Johnny says.

“Okay, now that we’re all settled down,” The angel crosses his legs. “So here’s what’s going on: This whole soulmates thing, it’s been around since the beginning of people, right?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Johnny frowns. “I wasn’t there.”

“Well _I_ was,” The angel pats his knees smugly. “And anyway it’s been a huge success for the most part, we all sort of look up to the god of fate-”

“We?”

“Oh, the other _angels_ ,” The angel laughs nervously.

“What the fuck?” Johnny frowns, glancing at Ten, who’s just folded his arms grumpily.

“Oh, right, you were frozen-” The angel sighs. “My name is Doyoung, I’m an angel-”

“Nice to meet you, Dongdong.” Ten says.

“ _Doyoung_. DO-YOUNG.” The angel says tensely.

“Carry on, Dongdong.” Johnny closes his arms tightly around Ten.

Doyoung pouts, but carries on. “Anyway the whole soulmate _system_ is falling apart, and we don’t know why. Soulmates aren’t staying together, and people aren’t so keen on looking for their soulmates in the first place-”

“Maybe because it’s antiquated and tyrannical-” Ten starts, before Johnny squeezes his thigh, shutting him up.

“So what do you want from us?” Johnny frowns.

“Oh, it’s pretty simple,” Doyoung says brightly. “I need you guys to break up and go with your _actual_ soulmates.”

Ten breaks out of Johnny’s grasp and makes another go at the angel, closing his hands around the latter’s throat before anyone (Johnny) can stop him.

“Baby, please,” Johnny says, trying to tug Ten off before he commits… _angelicide_? Could Ten even kill an immortal being? Johnny doesn’t want to find out. “Don’t hurt it.”

“ _IT?_ ” The angel gasps, his aura dimming again in indignation. “I’ll have you know-”

“Listen, Angel Dongyoung or whatever your name is,” Johnny says, prying Ten off with great difficulty. “Cut your losses and leave us alone. Nothing’s gonna make us split up again.”

“Aw, I really didn’t want to have to do this _again_ …” Doyoung sighs.

“What?”

“You promised you’d be civil the next time,” Doyoung curls one hand into a fist, and little rays of bright white light start striking out from the chinks between his fingers.

“We _what_?” Ten stops trying to strangle the angel. “I’ve never even _met_ your white ass-”

“Please let this be the last time.” Doyoung says, opening his palm to let a really bright light out into the apartment, and it’s the last thing Ten or Johnny remembers.

Actually, they don’t remember that, either.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Johnny dumps his bag at his desk and stretches, yawning. His thighs really hurt, but he hasn’t gone to the gym in _ages_ , and he hasn’t had sex in way longer.

“Good morning, Johnny!” One of his coworkers says, dumping her own bag on her chair. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Johnny doesn’t know if there’s a nice way to say, _I woke up feeling fucked minus the good parts_.

“Didn’t get much sleep?” One of their other coworkers asks, dumping his bag on the desk next to Johnny’s.

“No.” Johnny says, though he doesn’t remember falling asleep the night before. He yawns again. He must’ve fallen into a Netflix rabbit hole or something.

“Coffee?” His coworker offers him a paper cup full of vending machine coffee.

“Oh, thanks…” Johnny makes a face, trying to remember the guy’s name.

“Jaehyun.” His coworker says, laughing.

Johnny thinks Jaehyun’s smile is pretty cute.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Answer me honestly,” Ten’s boss says, glancing at his own reflection in a window as they walk briskly down the sidewalk. “How do I look?”

“Pretty good,” Ten says. His boss isn’t anywhere near as cute as Ten’s ex-boyfriend, but he sure as hell dresses way better.

“ _Pretty good_?” Ten’s boss groans, stopping by a window to frown at himself in his perfectly pressed, Italian-cut suit. “I’ve got to look better than my husband’s lawyer.”

Ten frowns. His boss’s husband is a professional golf player, so all the laywers he knows must be mutual friends of theirs. Which is beyond awkward.

“None of our friends agreed to help him out, obviously, because then they’d have to go against _me_.” Ten’s boss explains, as if he can read Ten’s mind. “So he’s hired some hot… _hotshot_ young laywer.”

The bitterness in his boss’s voice makes the back of Ten’s neck prickle.

Ten realizes why when they meet said hotshot young lawyer.

“Lee Taeyong,” The hotshot young lawyer extends a hand to Ten’s boss, who brushes him off, then to Ten, who shakes it in a daze.

The hotshot young lawyer is _really_ hot.

Ten finds himself sitting opposite the lawyer while his boss and his boss’s husband argue about the time they agreed to meet.

“We’ve been waiting here for _thirty_ minutes!” His boss’s husband grumbles, throwing his hands up.

“That’s your fault. I said 9:00.” Ten’s boss says curtly.

“No, you said 8:30!”

“I don’t know with you, but I am a hundred thousand percent sure I said 9:00.” Ten’s boss turns to Ten. “Right?”

Ten opens his mouth to say something, but his boss’s husband cuts him off, saying, “Of course he’s going to agree with you, you _pay_ him to agree with you!”

Ten’s boss scowls. “Excuse _me_! Ten does much more than that!”

“I also have to tell him he looks handsome every day.” Ten says.

Taeyong chortles, then disguises it as a cough. He looks up from the tablet in his hand to smile at Ten, who smiles back. He hopes this case is going to be a long one.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Hey Johnny, we’re going out for dinner,” Jaehyun says, leaning on the divider between their desks. “Wanna come with?”

“Sure,” Johnny says, folding up his laptop. “Who else is going?”

“Well, Sooyoung, Yerin…” Jaehyun glances at the girls down the aisle, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I’m-” Sooyoung pauses, then blinks into space, frowning for a moment. “I mean I can’t go.”

“Me neither,” Yerin says, blinking in mild confusion.

“What’s up?” Jaehyun laughs, waving a hand in front of both of them. “Earth to Yerin and Sooyoung… You guys okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Great.”

Jaehyun turns back to Johnny. “I guess it’s just you and me, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Johnny shrugs.

“It’s gonna be a bro night,” Jaehyun laughs again.

Johnny could watch Jaehyun laugh all day. “A dude-nner.”

“What?”

“A dude-nner… as in dinner… but two dudes…” Johnny tries to explain, his face heating up. “…being dudes…”

“Ugh, Johnny, that’s _terrible_.” Jaehyun says, laughing anyway.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten’s bobbing his head along to the music he’s listening to as he tosses things into the washing machine.

He stops at a plaid shirt two sizes too big for him.

He loves himself an oversized shirt, he’s got _tons_ of them, but he would never – not even high on a cocktail of party drugs – _ever_ buy this one. It’s a terrible blue-green-orange grandpa sort of shirt that would look lousy on him.

The answer is simple: It’s not his shirt.

But _whose_ is it? _I’m not so much of a slut that I don’t know who’s leaving clothes at my place… No one’s even left clothes at my place in MONTHS_ … Ten’s still staring at the godawful plaid shirt when the door to the laundry room opens.

“Hiya,” One of Ten’s neighbors, a high school senior, drags in a basket piled up with laundry he’s probably been putting off for weeks.

“Hi Haechan,” Ten says, tossing the shirt into the washing machine in a hurry. He doesn’t want the kid jumping to conclusions, though he’s pretty sure the kid knows Ten-who-lives-across-the-hall brings guys home an awful lot.

Haechan flashes a V sign before pulling the washing machine next to Ten’s open.

“So how’s school?” Ten asks, stuffing the rest of his load into the washing machine to cover up the plaid shirt.

“Living hell, man.” Haechan grumbles, dumping a giant chunk of his laundry into the machine without sorting it.

Ten frowns at him. “You should probably separate the darks from the lights.”

“ _It don’t matter if you’re black or white_ ,” Haechan sings, before shaking his head at Ten. “Michael Jackson, you know? It’s all about equality these days.”

“Those boxers are going to bleed into your uniform.” Ten points at a bright purple pair of boxers.

“Oh fuck you’re right,” Haechan says, grabbing the said pair of boxers. He stops, then frowns at Ten.

“What?” Ten frowns back. “I’m not going to help you-”

“No, no, I don’t need your help. It’s just…” Haechan points at Ten’s arm. “Congrats.”

Ten’s about to tell him off for being vague and annoying, then he glances down at his arm. He’s rolled up his sleeves to keep them from trailing in the water, but he hadn’t noticed anything up with his arm earlier.

In the middle of his wrist is a clean, dark circle.

⭕


	4. An Elevator Pitch For Pettiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny makes his heart literally race. He makes him feel warm inside, and not in a sexy way. 
> 
> He makes him feel the way that Ten always imagined people felt about their soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wOOF this one's late so i'm gonna do a double chapter update

Johnny’s laughing so hard that he can hardly breathe, and the family in the next table are giving him weird looks.

“It’s not even that funny, man,” Jaehyun says, looking mildly embarrassed.

“Y- You’re right, it isn’t.” Johnny straightens himself up, taking a deep breath to sober up. He doesn’t even remember the joke at this point, taking a sip of water to mask how much he wants to bury himself alive right now.

Jaehyun smiles. “Your face is so red.”

Johnny glances at the mirror on the side of the restaurant. His head looks like tiny little tomato perched on top of his neck. “God.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun assures him, his smile digging into the dimples on his cheeks. “It’s cute.”

Johnny’s tempted to reply, _You’re cute_ , but something stops him. Something’s nagging at the back of his mind, like he’s only remembering now that he forgot to unplug something at home. He definitely unplugged the toaster and the hot plate on his way out, and didn’t leave anything charging, and didn’t leave the heater on…

“What’s up?” Jaehyun asks, and only then does Johnny realize he’s been staring into space with his spoon casually dripping soup all over the tablecloth.

“Nothing,” Johnny says, though he knows he won’t be able to sleep later until he remembers that _thing_ at the back of his mind.

 _It’s not a thing, it’s a a person_ , Johnny realizes, by the time he and Jaehyun are sharing a slice of blueberry cheesecake.

_But who?_

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Uh-huh.” Ten says on instinct, looking up from his iPad. He hadn’t been reading it – he’d actually left it for long enough for the screen to go dark.

“ _Really_?” His boss asks, sounding more shocked than Ten had expected.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Ten asks.

“I was asking if you were willing to do a little _espionage_ on my husband’s lawyer.”

Ten’s face goes blank. “You better not be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

“What, you think I’ve gotten this far by playing it fair all the time?” His boss slumps in his seat, pouting. “Actually, I have. Played it fair, I mean. Every time. And look where it’s gotten me!”

“You’re pretty successful, sir.”

“You’re being paid to say that.”

“Sure, maybe,” Ten says. “But I’m not being paid to sleep with your husband’s lawyer.”

Attorney Kim Kibum chokes on his morning coffee. “That’s not what I- What is _wrong_ with you, Ten?”

“Oh.” Ten shrugs. He’s beyond feeling embarrassed around his boss. He’s had to help his boss get dressed once, that time that said boss got adventurous over the weekend and broke a leg.

“Well, I mean, if you _want_ to… _you know_ … I’m not gonna stop you,” His boss shrugs. “But for the record, I don’t condone any of this.”

“Got it.” Ten pulls out his phone and starts stalking Lee Taeyong with the efficiency of a high school fanboy.

His fingers drag on the name of the lawyer’s undergrad college. What a coincidence. It’s the same one his ex graduated from. Maybe they know each other.

Granted, thousands of people are from the same college, but it’s a coincidence nonetheless.

“That’s a good college,” Ten’s boss notes, peering over his shoulder.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Doyoung leans back against the park bench, taking a deep breath. All is well in the world, thanks to him.

“Self-righteous bitch,” a nearby pigeon coos at him.

“Shut up.” Doyoung makes a kick at the pigeon, but it’s too far away for his foot to reach. Doyoung frowns at the pigeon, which shifts in expression and makes a dumb cooing noise.

He glances around the park. A few elderly people are walking around with their visors and practical walking shoes, but as far as he can see, none of them are paying him any notice.

A squirrel scurries up to the foot of the bench. “Dongyoung. Stop ruining everything.”

Doyoung frowns down at the squirrel, which has a strangely bitchy expression on its tiny face. “Why don’t you just come here and talk to me like a _normal_ minor god?”

“I’m still _deep undercover_.” The squirrel chits, scratching its nose. “Can’t leave right now.”

“Well go stay in your undercover job or whatever. Leave me alone.” Doyoung waves a hand to shoo the squirrel away.

The squirrel doesn’t budge, scowling at Doyoung. “Why don’t you do _your_ job, Dongyoung?”

“My job is to help the god of fate keep things in order,” Doyoung says defensively. “Which is what I’m trying to do.”

“The operating word here being ‘trying’…”

“Piss off.”

“ _You_ piss off.” The squirrel tries to flip him off before realizing that it doesn’t have enough fingers. “Whatever. Leave Ten and his boyfriend alone.”

“You don’t even know his fucking _name_.” Doyoung groans.

“Fuck you.” The squirrel says, before a vacant expression takes over its face.

Doyoung reclines on his park bench, looking up at the canopy of willows. The god of fate owes him _big time_ for this entire endeavor.

Doyoung smiles to himself.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“So,” Yerin leans against the wall of Johnny’s cubicle.

“Yes?” Johnny looks away from his laptop. There’s no tab for him to suddenly close. Johnny does work when he’s at work, mostly because he can’t think of anything else to do. It’s not like any of his friends really chat him up when he’s busy.

His ex used to do that a lot, though. _Why are you thinking about him anyway, Johnny? It’s been ages since you broke up._

Johnny frowns up at Yerin, who’s waiting for an answer. “Sorry, I was spaced. What were you saying?”

Yerin starts laughing. “I don’t blame you. I’d be daydreaming 24/7 if I were dating Jaehyun, too.”

“I’m… not.”

“Not yet?” Yerin sighs. “Dammit.”

Sooyoung appears, propping her chin on the opposite wall. “Ha!”

Yerin glumly reaches for her wallet and hands Sooyoung a few bills.

Jaehyun walks in at that moment, carrying a box of newly printed Valentine’s Day card prototypes. “What’s the bet this time?”

“Whether you and new guy are dating.” Sooyoung says, counting her spoils.

Yerin and Johnny’s eyes widen, but they don’t say anything to correct her.

Jaehyun smiles good-naturedly. “You always bet wrong-”

“Shut up! I get it!” Yerin whines, crossing her arms as she turns back to her desk.

“-Sooyoung.” Jaehyun finishes.

“Pardon?” Sooyoung stops counting her money, tilting her head down to glare at Jaehyun.

“I was just gonna ask Johnny out, so you can give Yerin her money back.”

Johnny looks up from his laptop, sure his eyes are bugging out from behind his glasses. “P-Pardon?”

“Well,” Jaehyun runs a hand self-consciously through his hair, suddenly a thousand times less confident than he’d been just seconds before. “I wasn’t planning to ask you out in front of _them_ , but uh, I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“I’d love to.” Johnny says with what he hopes is a casual-looking shrug.

Yerin squeals as she grabs her money back from Sooyoung, jumping for a few seconds before wrapping Jaehyun in a bear hug. “Oh my god I love you Jae!”

“Sure.” Jaehyun says, his cheeks turning crayon pink.

Johnny notices the circle on Jaehyun’s wrist as he tries to pry Yerin off of him, citing _professionality_ and _propriety_ like a walking workplace handbook.

Johnny looks down at his own wrist. He’s not sure when he got his own circle, but he knows he didn’t have it back when he was dating Ten.

_There you go again, what’s up with you, Johnny?_

He ignores the voice in his head and wonders what Ten’s doing.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten is sitting across Attorney Lee Taeyong in an overpriced café, nursing a cappuccino he’s sipping so gingerly it might as well be poisoned. He’s not sure how he got here – Oh, scratch that, he’s 100% sure how he got here, he just doesn’t like thinking about it.

Up close and personal, Taeyong seems smaller. Or maybe Ten’s just got high standards. standards.

“I guess we both know why I called you here.”

 _Oh. Is this a business meeting? Really?_ Ten’s a little disappointed. “Yeah.”

Taeyong uncuffs one of his sleeves and pulls it up a little. He points the circle on his wrist at Ten. “Seems like you’re my soulmate. Whatever that means.”

Ten frowns. “You mean… you don’t know…”

“ _Of course_ I know what it means,” Taeyong says, with a cute, soft little laugh. “It’s just that the whole soulmate… _thing_ has never really meant much to me.”

“Me neither.” Ten shrugs.

“So,” Taeyong looks a little uncomfortable and bordering goofy, which reminds Ten that he’s a real person, because honestly, Taeyong doesn’t look like one. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Ten shrugs. “We’re supposed to make each other happy or something.”

Taeyong seems to consider it seriously for a moment. “You know what would make me really happy?”

Ten catches the glint in his eye. “Information about my boss? Sure, only if you give me information about your client.”

Taeyong’s grin is less than kind. “You really _are_ my soulmate, aren’t you?”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Doyoung wants to beat himself up. He should’ve seen this coming.

He _literally_ should’ve seen this coming, because he can _literally_ take a peek into the near future. He thought he’d already orchestrated things well – He made sure Ten was let off early because of some emergency at his apartment (there was none), and Johnny would stay late to wait up for Jaehyun, who was working on the Valentine’s Day cards. Ten would be home too early and get bored and probably get a call from Taeyong, who was antsy about the case and their under-the-table deal, while Johnny would spend some quality time with Jaehyun editing fucking _Valentine’s Day_ cards. It was _perfect_.

But how was Doyoung to know that Ten would forget his iPad at the office? And that he’d get caught in the rush hour on the way to pick it up? And that on the way back down, he would end up in the exact same elevator as Johnny? There were _six_ elevators in the building, for fuck’s sake.

 _Luck’s really not on my side_ , Doyoung thinks as he sits on a nearby park bench, watching the scene unfold in his mind’s eye. _That fucker._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten’s still cursing himself for leaving his iPad at work, like an idiot, when the elevator stops at a lower floor. _Come on, I just wanna go home_.

“Ten?”

_Well fuck._

Ten plasters on a plastic, squareish smile as he looks up at his ex. “Oh, hey…”

“I’m Johnny,” Johnny says, as if he’s worried Ten might have forgotten his name already.

“Yeah, I know.” Ten couldn’t forget Johnny’s name even if he rinsed his brain with thick bleach.

“So, uh… what’re you doing here? I mean, what’s up with you lately? You work here?”

“Yeah, upstairs.” Ten points vaguely at the ceiling.

He hopes that ends the conversation, but Johnny makes this funny little gesture at the guy who’d entered the elevator after him and says to Ten, “Ten, this is Jaehyun, he’s my…”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Johnny’s sweating. He’s worried that Jaehyun might be offended if he just says ‘coworker’, but he’s also worried about sounding too smug towards Ten if he says anything else. And it’s not like he’s dating Jaehyun, they haven’t even gone on their first date. The dinner two days before doesn’t count.

“Copy writer,” Jaehyun says, saving Johnny.

“Huh?” Ten asks, looking entirely disinterested.

“We work at the greeting card place? I write the cheesy things that go on the cards,” Jaehyun explains, with hand gestures. “And Johnny makes the illustrations.”

“We’re a team.” Johnny nods enthusiastically.

“Oh.” Ten says, looking vaguely at his reflection on the elevator’s mirrored wall. “That’s cool, I guess.”

“Are you from the magazine company upstairs?” Jaehyun asks.

Ten makes a face, and Johnny knows what that face means: _Wow that was very homophobic and judgmental of you, I’ll have you know that just because my suit is well-tailored and a little on the shiny side…_

“Actually, Ten’s a lawyer.” Johnny says, cutting off Ten’s chance to snap at Jaehyun.

“Actually actually, I’m the lawyer’s personal assistant.” Ten says, pursing his lips.

Johnny’s sweating again. He didn’t know that Ten didn’t finish law school or get… certified? Johnny realizes he doesn’t know much about lawyers, despite having dated a law student.

“Oh, cool.” Jaehyun says.

“Not really. I was studying to be a lawyer.” Ten glances at Johnny through his reflection in the mirror. “Remember, Johnny?”

“Y-yeah.”

“You were studying to be an architect.” Ten sounds like he’s accusing Johnny of something. Or Johnny’s reading too much into it. Either way, he’s making Johnny nervous.

“Yeah, haha, well, things change.” Johnny shrugs. “Plans change.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

 _People change, too._ Ten doesn’t even need to try to see the circle on Johnny’s wrist. The latter is wearing short sleeves today, so it’s just out there for everyone to see.

Ten would have to be seriously delusional if he didn’t notice the way the other guy was holding the elevator door open for Johnny, or the seesawing “No, _you_ choose” way they were trying to decide where to have dinner.

 _Ten, you_ are _seriously delusional. You already have a soulmate, don’t fuck around with your ex. He seems happy enough._

Ten waves as kindly as he can when Johnny and that other guy get off the elevator at the parking level. But something is bothering him, like a hangnail he seriously wants to peel.

It’s Johnny. He’s special to Ten, even if they broke up years ago. A year ago? No, definitely more than a year ago. Ten’s mind is in shambles trying to remember why or when or how they broke up, so he puts that thought aside and just basks in how much he isn’t over Johnny.

Ten unlocks his bike’s chain and hops on. He usually doesn’t break a sweat biking the few blocks home at night, but thinking about Johnny has him sweating like he biked a few dozen kilometers. Johnny makes his heart literally race. He makes him feel warm inside, and not in a sexy way.

He makes him feel the way that Ten always imagined people felt about their soulmates.

_Maybe you just don’t know Taeyong that well. If you dated him for as long as you dated Johnny, you’d probably get attached, too._

Ten heads up the stairs to his apartment and slams the door behind him. “Dammit.” He says aloud.

He picks up his phone. “Hello? Taeyong?”


	5. Maybe this soulmate shit will work out after all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Usually people have an agenda when they offer to walk you home.” Johnny says.
> 
> “What kind of people do you hang out with?” Jaehyun laughs. 
> 
> Johnny’s thinking about Ten and his slightly shiny suit. “People with agendas.”

“You’re not like, offended or anything?” Ten asks, pulling up his pants.

“Why would I be?” Taeyong asks, resting his head back on his hands, too lazy to get up or get dressed.

Not that he needs to. This is _his_ apartment.

“I don’t know, we just met,” Ten shimmies into his shirt. “And we’re just using each other.”

“I’m starting to think we’re soulmates for a reason,” Taeyong says, sitting up. “And that reason is that we don’t take shit too seriously.”

“This is unprofessional.” Ten says, picking one sock off the floor.

“Yes, it is.”

“Not a word of this to anyone.” Ten finds the sock’s pair. “Especially not Mr. Lee or Mr. Kim.”

Taeyong mimes zipping his lips shut. “My lips are sealed.”

“I’m not usually like this,” Ten tries to justify himself, even though, put simply, the _deed_ is done. “I usually take someone out on a couple of dates before having sex.”

“Oh, I’m the other way around,” Taeyong shrugs. “I wouldn’t bother dating someone who isn’t good in bed.”

Ten’s eyebrows shoot up. _This next-level thinking is probably why Taeyong is a lawyer and you’re a dropout._ “Am _I_ good enough for a date?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, don’t sweat it.” Taeyong assures him. The smile that crosses his face immediately after is borderline cute. “Ten out of ten.”

“Ugh.” Ten groans. “You wouldn’t believe how much I had to hear that with my ex – Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about him. Right.”

“Johnny?” Taeyong asks, tossing Ten his jacket off the side of the bed.

“You know him?”

“You were moaning his name awhile ago.” Taeyong looks embarrassed for Ten.

“Oh shit.” Ten’s more than embarrassed. He wants to burrow into the ground and never come out again. “Sorry. I- He’s been- It’s not- I’m- Sorry.”

“It’s cool.” Taeyong yawns. “Do I look like him or something?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.” A smirk crosses Taeyong’s lips. Then his expression lightens. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s a bad idea.” Ten grimaces. “I’ve got to flush my ex out of my head first.”

“I’ll give you a call.” Taeyong says.

He looks so good just leaning against the headboard, calmly watching Ten scramble to put himself together. Nothing turns Ten on more than someone casually putting up with him being a complete mess.

_Maybe this soulmate shit will work out after all._

Ten laughs at himself on the elevator ride down. _Trust me to turn this whole romantic soulmate thing into a fuckbuddy._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Usually people have an agenda when they offer to walk you home.” Johnny says.

“What kind of people do you hang out with?” Jaehyun laughs.

Johnny’s thinking about Ten and his slightly shiny suit. “People with agendas.”

Jaehyun’s laugh is gentle and understated, like the rest of him. Johnny likes that about him, and he likes Jaehyun, even though he’s only known him a week.

He can hear Ten’s voice in his head saying, ‘He’s probably a serial killer.’

Johnny feels guilty that Ten’s been running through his mind the entire evening, so he says, “I’m joking, I was really gonna offer to walk _you_ home.”

“Oh, that’s a terrible idea,” Jaehyun laughs again. “My mom will definitely keep you there all night if she sees you.”

Johnny frowns. “What? Why?”

“She loves to interrogate people. I feel she’s a frustrated reporter, in another life maybe?” Jaehyun laughs at himself, then pulls on a serious face. “Once she gets you sat down with tea and butter cookies you’re never leaving.”

“She sounds… nice?” Johnny’s smile is a grimace at best.

“Let’s save the interrogation for a later date,” Jaehyun waves a hand dismissively. Then he stops in his tracks. “I mean, assuming there’s a later date.”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Johnny says, hoping he doesn’t sound over-enthusiastic. “I had a good time. _Am_ having a good time. It’s good.”

Jaehyun nudges him gently with his elbow. “Jesus, dude, you only had to say it once.”

“But I am! Having a good time!”

Jaehyun sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Give it a rest, Johnny.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Doyoung claps himself on the back, sitting at the edge of his motel bed, watching everything on the crappy motel TV.

Everything is going according to plan after all.

The god of fate is going to be delighted.

Doyoung turns to the foldaway table to get the cola he was drinking, only to find a cockroach on the table, looking up at him with a bitchy expression.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Leave me alone.”

“You _know_ they still love each other.”

“No, they just miss each other. Because they’re used to each other being there. They’ll miss each other less over time, that’s how it works.” Doyoung says, rolling up a nearby newspaper.

“Screw you,” The cockroach squeaks. “They’re in love.”

“How would you know what love is?” Doyoung tries to smack the cockroach with the newspaper, but it flies off. Doyoung, on instinct, ducks into a fetal position, screaming.

The cockroach lands on the edge of the TV table. “What would _you_ know about love?”

“Excuse you, I _am_ in love. I have been for a couple thousand years.” Doyoung scowls at the cockroach, trying to keep his dignity though he’s curled up on a motel floor. “And stop fucking around with my plans. I’m gonna let today slide, because I’m nice that way, but I know it was you.”

“Of course it was me. I’m the one trying to fix all this dumbassery-”

“You’re just upset that the mortal you’re in love with is someone else’s soulmate!” Doyoung says in exasperation, tossing the newspaper at the cockroach, which again, flies out of the way.

“So what if I am!” The cockroach screeches at him. “While we’re hitting below the belt, does this god you’re in love with even _know_ you love him?”

“Leave me alone!” Doyoung picks up a slipper and throws it at the general direction of the cockroach, which slips under the door and out of the room to wreak havoc elsewhere in the motel.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten’s not had a couple hours of rough sex in a while, so he’s understandably groggy the next morning.

“Dude.” A voice next to him says. “It’s the other way around.”

Ten drags his eyelids open to realize that he’s mounted his bike the wrong way around. “Oh, fuck.”

“What’s up with you today?” Haechan asks, pulling his own bike out of the rack.

“Being an adult sucks.” Ten says.

“You know what sucks? When adults say shit like that, because we don’t have any choice but to become adults.” Haechan adjusts the backpack on his back.

“It’s a warning. It’s not _supposed_ to be nice.” Ten grumbles, settling onto his seat the right way around, but his ass aches and it’s no one’s fault but his own.

“Warnings are for things you can avoid. Getting old is not one of those things.” Haechan says.

“What the fuck are you being so wise for?” Ten scowls at the high schooler as he bikes off, putting up two fingers in a V sign. Ten starts biking in the opposite direction, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“Fucking teenagers.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“I didn’t like greeting cards much before I started working here,” Johnny says, sitting across a meeting room table from Jaehyun, who’s laying all the rejected Valentine’s Day cards on the table, in the hopes that there’s something worth salvaging in one of them.

“Really?” Jaehyun cocks an eyebrow up, still pulling more rejected cards out of the box.

“Yeah.” Johnny picks one of the holographic ones up, tilting it to watch the arrow on the card swing around and pierce a cartoon heart. “But now I _hate_ them.”

 The corner of Jaehyun’s mouth perks up, but he doesn’t smile all the way. “And what made you hate them?”  

“They’re just so… how do you say…” Johnny opens one to be assaulted by a loud, tinny rendition of _Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You_. “Jesus, they’re so annoying.”

Jaehyun’s smirk widens, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Like, who’s gonna keep them anyway? They’re a waste of paper,” Johnny says tossing one of the prototypes aside. He looks nervously at Jaehyun. “Sorry, I know you worked really hard on that.”

“Whatever,” Jaehyun tosses the card in his hand somewhere onto the floor. “You’re right, it’s just more trash.”

“No, come on, we worked way too hard on these to be throwing them around,” Johnny leans over to pick the card up off the floor. “And some of these are actually kind of good. For greeting cards.”

“Give it a rest, Johnny, just admit they’re crap and move on.” Jaehyun says, scooping up an armful of the cards to toss them back into the box. “I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to look for something good in the rejects pile.”

“Hey, they’re all good, it’s just that we can’t put everything into production, for like, _economical_ _reasons_ ,” Johnny reaches across the table, grabbing Jaehyun by the arms to keep him from tossing all the cards.

“ _Economical_ _reasons_?” Jaehyun parrots, his dimples digging into his cheeks from the effort of not laughing. “When did you get so business-minded, John Seo?”

“Screw you.” Johnny flops back into his seat, arms crossed, but he’s smiling at himself, too.

“Aw come on, Johnny, don’t be angry,” Jaehyun says, picking up one of the cards. He pulls it open to let a pop-up cat saying _I LOVE YOU_ flap out.

“Ugh, gross,” Johnny buries his face on the table, smiling from ear to ear.

 _Somewhere out there, the god of fate’s probably smiling, too_ , Johnny thinks. Though he’s not sure why the voice saying that in his head sounds so bitter.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten’s not used to one guy holding his attention for so long anymore, but somehow Taeyong’s managed to slip completely under his radar, and he finds himself on another “date” in Taeyong’s apartment for the third week running.

 _Three_ weeks. That’s like a century in Ten’s love life.

“Are we dating?” Ten asks, reaching for the bowl of chips on the coffee table. Taeyong’s classy like that, he actually takes the chips out of the fucking bag.

“Why does it matter?”

“Nothing, I just need to know what to say when my sister calls me up tomorrow,” Ten says with a shrug that he hopes is casual.

“What’d you tell her last week?”

“That I was just hoeing around, same old, same old,” Ten watches Taeyong’s face in the dim light from the TV screen, but Taeyong doesn’t even flinch.

 _If that were Johnny, he’d be_ deeply _offended_ , Ten thinks, taking a sip of wine to wash down the chips.

“Well, we can’t just go around telling everyone that we’re dating, since my client and your boss are still trying to divorce each other-”

“Oh, how’s that going?” Ten asks.

“Not very well.” Taeyong takes a sip of his own wine. He catches Ten’s expression and smiles. “But you seem pretty happy about that.”

“Because whatever reason they’re pushing to get this goddamn divorce must be some tiny, stupid thing.” Ten swirls his wine irritably. “They’re supposed to be together. They make each other happier than they ever were apart. Idiots.”

“I thought you didn’t buy into the whole soulmate thing,” Taeyong says, setting his glass down on the table.

Ten would have to be a fucking idiot to miss the glint in Taeyong’s eyes.

“I don’t. I think it’s crap,” Ten puts his wineglass down. “But you of all people should know there are exceptions to everything.”

Taeyong nods slowly, like he’s thinking about it as his hand creeps along the backrest of the sofa. “Am _I_ an exception?”

Ten smiles when Taeyong’s hand lands on his shoulder. He reaches up and gently swats Taeyong’s hand away. “Why does it matter?”

Taeyong closes in until he’s close enough to do nothing more than barely mouth the words, “Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.” Ten says, before letting Taeyong kiss him. _But not the happiest_ _I could be._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“I’m not that… big on PDA.”

“Johnny, there’s no one else here,” Jaehyun says, making a wide gesture around the empty elevator.

“Still, I…” Johnny shakes his head. “I just don’t feel comfy doing it here.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun smiles good-naturedly and leans back against the railing. He studies the way Johnny’s fidgeting with the zipper of his bag. “Are you worried we’ll run into your ex again?”

“I- I didn’t- How did you know he was my ex?”

“I’m not an idiot, dude.” Jaehyun says. “You had that _Oh shit I ran into my ex_ look.”

“I’m that obvious?” Johnny’s face gets warm.

“You mean easy to read? Yeah.” Jaehyun gives Johnny an equally warm smile. “But don’t worry, I love it.”

Johnny nearly snaps the handle of his bag’s zipper. “You throw that word around a lot, huh?”

“What word?”

“You know, the L word.”

“ _Lesbians_?” Jaehyun laughs when Johnny shoots him a weird look. “You didn’t watch that movie? Oh well, that’s for another time, I guess.”

“We’ve only known each other a month.” Johnny says, not laughing or smiling back. “You can’t really say you love someone in that time.”

“Really?” Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe I’ve loved you for more than a month. Maybe I’ve loved you always.”

Johnny snaps the handle of his bag’s zipper. His heart is hammering around in his chest like that one time Daffy Duck got ahold of a jackhammer. _Was that even Daffy Duck? Why am I thinking about Daffy fucking Duck right now?_

“I should put that on a card, huh?” Jaehyun laughs. “ _I’ve loved you always_. Needs a lot of context, though.”

Johnny needs to kiss him.

“Yeah.” Johnny glances at the display, which lets them know they’re two floors away from their stop. There’s no way Ten would suddenly appear on the next floor, he has no business there.

Johnny leans over and plants a gentle peck on Jaehyun’s lips, catching the latter off guard.

“I thought you weren’t a PDA kind of guy.”

“Screw that.” Johnny goes in for another kiss, feeling confident as the elevator sweeps past another floor.

Then the elevator stops and the doors swing open.

Johnny doesn’t need to pull out of this kiss to know that the person standing in the doorway, arms crossed, suit slightly shiny, is Ten.

“Good morning to you too,” Ten says, looking clearly amused.


	6. I Guess We’re Taking The Stairs From Now On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh…” Johnny’s face reddens and he scratches the back of his head. “Um, thank you. I, um… Are you seeing someone now? I mean, not that- I’m not- You don’t have to answer-”  
> “Yeah, I am.” Ten says. “We’re not really serious, though.”
> 
> “Oh, we aren’t- I mean, we’ve only been dating for a few weeks, I mean, less than a month,” Johnny’s eyes are on the display, like he’s begging the elevator to just climb the last two floors to his stop already. 
> 
> Ten opens his mouth to say, Us too, when the floor shudders beneath them. 
> 
> “What was that?” Johnny asks, frowning. 
> 
> “I don’t-”
> 
> All the lights in the elevator go out.

Ten’s been having a _morning_. He’d fallen asleep at Taeyong’s place the night before – completely on accident, he’s not done that with anyone but Johnny – so he’d had to borrow clothes from Taeyong and get an extra shameful lift to the office.

“Have a nice day at work, babe,” Taeyong had said, practically cracking up as he did.

“You too, _babe_ ,” Ten had been playing along, but he was into it.

Taeyong hadn’t given him a kiss goodbye, though. _But if you’re going to go around expecting everyone to be Johnny, you’re just going to get disappointed._

Ten had ended up in a crowded elevator that seemed to be stopping at _every_ fucking floor, so he got off on a random floor and tried to get another one.

The only other elevator that answered his frenzied button-pressing just so happened to have Johnny making out with his new boyfriend. _Great._

“Good morning to you too,” Ten says, getting into the elevator out of sheer desperation.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, turns to the wall, but the walls are all mirrors, and everyone in the damn elevator can see how red his face is.

“Hi… Ten, right?” Johnny’s new boyfriend says. Ten doesn’t remember what his name is, but he doesn’t care.

“My name’s Eleven.” Ten says, assuring complete silence for the rest of this godforsaken elevator ride.

Which, thankfully, is just one floor more.

Ten’s alone for the rest of the trip to the top floor, which is too much time for him to think about that way Johnny tilts his head when he’s kissing, or the way that Johnny always, always closes his eyes.

_He looks happy with that guy. Really happy._ So Ten decides, just as he steps off the elevator, that he’s going to find his _own_ happiness.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“What did you want to hear? That I support you being a fucking homewrecker?”

“It’s not homewrecking if they’re not married.” Ten snaps, scooping up an armful of damp clothes. “And don’t swear, you’re still a kid.”

“And yet you, a whole-ass _adult_ , are asking me, a lowly _kid_ , for advice,” Haechan says, dumping his – again – unsorted laundry into the machine.

Ten doesn’t have the energy to remind the teenager to sort through the clothes, but he figures Haechan’s mom will give him an earful when the laundry comes out fucked up later.

“I’m not asking you for advice, I just want your _opinion,_ it’s different.”

“You sure like to fuck around with semantics a lot for someone who dropped out of law school,” Haechan says, dodging the damp sock Ten hurls in his direction. “It’s just my opinion!”

“I hope your clothes come out fucking tie-dyed,” Ten says, slamming the door to Haechan’s washing machine shut and starting it before the latter can say anything.

“Sike, you didn’t even put any soap!” Haechan says, pressing the emergency stop button.

Ten crumples into a dramatic heap on the laundry room floor. “Haechan, my life is such a mess, I can’t even pick on a _child_.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re a horrible person?” Haechan says, throwing in some soap, but not sorting his clothes anyway.

“I’m not.”

“You see your ex-boyfriend happy with his new boyfriend and the first thing you think is, _hey, I should break them up and take Jason back for myself_ -”

“His name’s Johnny.”

“That’s beside the point. Your idea of cheering yourself up is bullying a fucking high school student.” Haechan rolls his eyes. “You’ve got literally every warning flag for _psychopathy._ ”

“I think you mean _sociopathy_.” Ten says.

“Yeah, whatever, they don’t teach that shit in high school.” Haechan leans against the washing machine as it starts whirring. “Can’t you be happy without making other people miserable?”

“I don’t want other people to be miserable,” Ten sighs. “I just want Johnny.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Oh, hey Ten.”

“Hi,” Ten waves and sips his coffee like it’s a complete coincidence, them running into each other in the lobby the next morning, like his coffee hasn’t gotten lukewarm from waiting. “You’re early today.”

“I have some stuff to fix for a meeting at 8,” Johnny explains, holding the elevator door open for Ten. “Why are _you_ so early?”

“I need to get some stuff fixed for my boss before he gets here.” Ten lies through his teeth, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee.

“Oh, okay,” Johnny’s smile is so easy Ten wants to bite it off his face. No, not _that_ way.

Ten scratches the coffee cup as the floor numbers flicker past on the elevator’s display.

“Hey, Johnny?”

“Yup?” Johnny plucks his earbuds out respectfully.

Ten wants to say something to throw him off, like, ‘ _Hey asshole I’m still in love with you_ ’, but part of him being in love with Johnny is that he wants to see him this happy. Ten has hidden altruistic depths, he figures, but they’re all reserved for Johnny and Johnny alone.

Ten finds himself throwing away his plan to steal Johnny back, and actually finds himself saying, “You and your boyfriend are cute together.”

“Oh…” Johnny’s face reddens and he scratches the back of his head. “Um, thank you. I, um… Are you seeing someone now? I mean, not that- I’m not- You don’t have to answer-”

“Yeah, I am.” Ten says. “We’re not really serious, though.”

“Oh, we aren’t- I mean, we’ve only been dating for a few weeks, I mean, less than a month,” Johnny’s eyes are on the display, like he’s begging the elevator to just climb the last two floors to his stop already.

Ten opens his mouth to say, _Us too_ , when the floor shudders beneath them.

“What was that?” Johnny asks, frowning.

“I don’t-”

All the lights in the elevator go out.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Shit. Ten?” Johnny reaches out, one hand hitting the wall, and the other reaching out to where he recalls Ten standing. ”Ten?”

“Johnny?” Something brushes against Johnny’s hand.

“I’m here,” Johnny lets go of the wall and stretches both hands out to search for Ten.

Ten’s fingers are cold when the bump into Johnny’s. “Oh, there you are.”

Johnny grips Ten’s hand tightly. It’s shaking really hard, and Johnny finds himself pulling Ten towards him. “It’s gonna be ok, we just have to find the emergency button and stuff…”

Ten buries his face in Johnny’s chest.

“We’re gonna be ok, Ten, don’t worry,” Johnny wraps one arm around Ten and reaches back to try to find the panel.

The floor shudders below them.

“Johnny, I-”

The elevator drops a few feet, before screeching to a stop, jammed up in the shaft at a strange angle. The floor’s tilted at almost 45 degrees, dumping Ten and Johnny in a heap in the corner.  

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“I love you,” Ten mouths against Johnny’s collar. He can feel Johnny crying, because his breaths are all hiccup-y, and his tears are rolling onto Ten’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna be ok,” Johnny says again, though he sounds much less convinced now.

Ten tightens his arms around Johnny. _If this is how I go, I don’t really mind._

_At least I’m dying while I’m still hot, right? I’ll never get old enough to go above a size 26._

_Ten this is not the fucking time to be funny._

Johnny presses his lips to Ten’s temple, and Ten closes his eyes. Not that it makes any difference in the pitch-dark, lopsided elevator, but he just wants to remember this moment, especially if it’s going to be his last.

The elevator pitches again, scraping against the walls as it drops.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Johnny’s eyes take a moment to adjust to the light. It’s really bright here, wherever he is, and his eyes are so full of tears that nothing’s coming in focus.

He blinks a few times. There’s a figure in white denim in front of him, and he doesn’t recognize the guy’s face once it comes into focus. “Who are you?”

“An angel.”

Johnny rubs his eyes. “Am I dead?”

The angel rolls his eyes. “Not yet.”

Johnny backs up slowly, hitting a wall with a metallic sound. The floor lurches beneath him. “Wha-”

“Don’t move around!” The angel hisses. “I still have to figure out how to stop this thing.”

“Are you my guardian angel?” Johnny asks.

The angel makes a face. “Of course not.”

“Oh good, I was expecting my guardian angel to be nicer.” Johnny ignores the angel’s annoyed expression and looks around the tiny elevator flooded with the angel’s antiseptic white light. There’s someone lying on the floor. Johnny bends down to look at their face, but the angel hisses at him again.

“Stop moving! You’ll get us all killed!”

Johnny frowns. “I thought angels couldn’t die?”

The angel blushes, a glowing coral color on his cheeks like a Christmas light. “Well you thought wrong.”

The figure on the ground groans, rolling onto their back. “Fuuuuck.”

Johnny looks down at the disgruntled face frowning up at him. “Ten?”

“Johnny?” Ten’s eyes widen suddenly. “The fuck?”

“Hi.” Is all Johnny manages to say.

Ten notices the glaring source of light in the lopsided elevator. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m an angel.” Doyoung says tensely.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Ten tries to sit up, but he’s suddenly nauseous, and falls back onto the floor, making it groan worryingly under them.

“Stop moving!” The angel hisses, as Johnny drops to a squat next to ten.

“Ten, are you okay?”

“My head feels like shit, but yeah, I’m good.”

“He’s _not_ good, he’s concussed.” The angel says, fiddling around with an open panel in the side of the elevator.

“How do you know?” Johnny frowns up at the angel.

“I just do.” The angel tries to touch something, but it bites back with an arc of sparks, so he draws his hands back. “Support his head and neck and don’t let him fall asleep.”

“Okay,” Johnny gently cradles Ten’s head on one hand, brushing his sweaty hair out of his face with the other.

Ten reaches up and caresses the side of Johnny’s face, smiling when his fingers run over that spot Johnny always misses when he shaves. “Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure this ‘angel’ is a hack and we’re going to die-”

“ _Hey_!” The angel pouts, trying and failing again to mess with something in the control panel.

“-So can you kiss me?” Ten finishes, beyond caring how desperate he looks. “Please?”

It doesn’t even take Johnny a second to bend down and kiss Ten flat on the lips.

“Hey! Hey! Stop!” The angel nudges Johnny’s knee with his foot. “You have a boyfriend!”

“I know,” Johnny says, his face reddening. But he doesn’t stop Ten when the latter cups Johnny’s face in his hands and goes in for another kiss.

“Stop it! You guys are _taken_! Sto-o-op!” The angel’s voice cracks. “Please!”

“I don’t care,” Ten breathes, tucking his fingers into Johnny’s hair to pull him closer for another kiss.

“You two are _terrible_ ,” The angel groans. He stomps a foot in annoyance, and the elevator drops down a few more feet. “Holy fucking-”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Doyoung unscrews his eyes, peeking one open. He’s still alive, but the elevator’s now tilted to the other side.

His halo of light is flickering slightly, it always does that when he’s stressed out.

_Stupid fucking minor gods trying to mess around with fate._

He glances down at the two mortals desperately sucking each other’s faces like he isn’t even there. _This is awful_.

Doyoung frowns at the elevator’s electronics panel, which frowns back at him.

‘Please,’ Doyoung begs it internally. ‘Please just let us out.’

‘No can do man, I’m fried.’ The panel says back at him.

The elevator jostles in the shaft again, dropping them a few more feet. They must be almost to the sixth floor now, Doyoung figures. If the elevator keeps inching down like this, they’ll make it safely to the first floor in less than an hour.

Then Doyoung can finally stop being a third wheel.

The elevator jostles again, but this time it doesn’t stop falling.

Doyoung’s mind goes completely clear for the first time in a couple thousand years, and all he can think is: _Oh shit oh shit oh shit_.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Jaehyun says, dumping his bag onto his desk and making for the meeting room in a hurry.

Sooyoung takes him by the arm to stop him. “The meeting’s been moved, Jae.”

“Why?”

“Johnny’s in the hospital.”

Jaehyun stares at her for a moment. It was as if she’d been speaking a foreign language. “What?”

“Johnny was rushed to the hospital.” Sooyoung says, the usual shit-eating, teasing grin gone from her lips. “Something happened to one of the elevators and he was in it? I’m not sure…”

Jaehyun has to sit down. “Which hospital is he in?”

“Well, _______ General is the nearest one…” Sooyoung says with a small frown. “But I’m not sure if-”

“I’ll see you later, Sooyoung,” Jaehyun says, scooping up all his things.

“Wait, Jae-”

 

Jaehyun is confused when he runs into this stern-looking man in a stern-looking suit on his way into Johnny’s hospital room. He’s doubly confused when he finds Johnny’s ex in the bed next to Johnny’s – _They must have been in the elevator together? What are the odds?_ He’s thrice as confused when he realizes they’re both fast asleep, but don’t seem to have any injuries on them. He’s even more confused when the man in the suit pulls a cellphone out of his pocket and places it on Ten’s bedside table, then turns to leave without another word.

Jaehyun considers sitting by Johnny’s bed and waiting for him to wake up, but he has work to do and besides, it’s awkward with Johnny’s ex literally meters away. So he self-consciously places a peck on Johnny’s cheek, then tiptoes out of the room.

The man in the suit seems to be waiting for him, which makes him even more confused than he’d already been.

“You’re Johnny’s new boyfriend?” The man asks.

“We’re partners at work.” Jaehyun corrects him, then stops and frowns at himself. _Why did you say that_? “I mean, yeah, yes, he’s my boyfriend. Are you Ten’s-?”

“If anyone at all asks you, I wasn’t here. Got it?”

“Um,” Jaehyun finds this request weird at best. He’s _definitely_ telling Johnny about the weird secret agent who came to see Ten. “Sure, of course.”

The man’s face softens. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The man turns to leave, then stops a few steps away and turns back. “Ten’s still after your boyfriend.”

“I… What?” Jaehyun grips the strap of his messenger bag protectively.

“Ten. The other guy in there,” The man nods towards the hospital room behind Jaehyun. “He’s trying to get your boyfriend back. Watch out for him.”

Jaehyun frowns. “Why are you telling me this?”

The man shrugs. “You seem like a nice guy.”

“…Thanks?”

“It’s not a compliment.” The man says with a smile that’s half nice, and half cruel. “I mean you look like you wouldn’t stand a chance against Ten. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Jaehyun says through a grimace.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Johnny wakes up to find Doyoung sitting at the foot of his bed, emitting a soft glow in the dim hospital room. He looks over at Ten’s bed, where Ten’s still fast asleep.

“Did you save us?” Johnny asks.

“Actually, I… I did my best, but he still got a concussion,” Doyoung makes a face.

“Thank you.” Johnny says.

“You’re welcome.” Doyoung’s smile is sincere. “Listen, I… I came here to apologize for trying to wipe your memory again.”

Johnny frowns. “What kind of an angel goes around wiping people’s memories?”

“I- Some angels do, okay? That’s not the point.” Doyoung grumbles, stomping his feet on the tiled floor. “The thing is, I can’t wipe your memory now for some reason, because nearly dying in an elevator is too big a deal to forget, and I just can’t-”

“Apology accepted.” Johnny says. Then he frowns. “But why do you even care that we forget that?”

Doyoung sighs, then explains everything from the beginning.

“I’m getting good at explaining this.” Doyoung says, once he’s rambled through everything he’d wanted to say.

“How many times have you wiped our memories?” Johnny asks, glancing over at Ten again, who hasn’t moved in all the time Doyoung was talking.

“Um… probably twelve in total.”

“So I’ve broken up with Ten _twelve_ times? Because of _you_?” Johnny fixes Ten’s sleeping form with a sad look. Then he realizes that Ten isn’t even breathing. And the fan is stopped in mid-rotation. And the clock on the wall is frozen.

_Stupid angel._

“Yes.” Doyoung says, with only the slightest hint of remorse in his voice.

Johnny turns back to Doyoung. “Have I punched you in the face yet?”

Doyoung flinches away, nodding aggressively. “And Ten’s tried to stab me with a kitchen knife.”

Johnny almost smiles. “You deserve it.”

“I- I’m just doing my _job_!” Doyoung gasps, his halo flickering in indignation. “I’m not the one who’s wrong here, _you_ are!”

Johnny purses his lips. “So you’re not going to quit?”

“No.” Doyoung straightens up his back. “I haven’t walked away from _anything_ in over 10,000 years.”

Johnny ignores that. “You’re just going to keep messing with us until we do what you want?”

“Yes, because it’s what _should_ be-”

“Don’t bother Ten anymore.” Johnny says.

“You say that _every_ time-”

“And I won’t bother him, either.” Johnny blinks hard. “I’ll stay from Ten, if that’s what you want. Just don’t bother us anymore.”

Doyoung stares at him for a whole minute before saying, “ _What_?”

“We could’ve died today.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“I don’t care if it’s your fault, or some other _angel_ ’s fault, or even if the god of fate cut the fucking elevator cable themselves.” Johnny says. “You stay away from us and keep your other friends away from us and keep your whole immortal mess in heaven or wherever you guys live, just leave me and Ten out of it.”

Doyoung frowns, but says nothing.

“What? You’ve never heard that before?” Johnny asks.

“No, I… Never.” Doyoung shifts in his seat. “I guess I’ll be going now.”

“Bye. I hope I never see you again.” Johnny says.

“Same here.” Doyoung says.

Johnny looks at Ten for a moment, then holds up a hand to stop Doyoung. “Wait!”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I knew you’d change your mind, you-”

“No, no, I won’t. I swear.” Johnny puts his hands together like he’s going to pray. “Can you not unfreeze time for just a minute?”

“Um… sure.”

“Thank you.” Johnny climbs out of bed and leans over Ten’s. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss on Ten’s forehead, then one on his nose, and one on his lips. He whispers something into Ten’s ear, resting his face against Ten’s rigid, unmoving face.  

“M- Minute’s over.” Doyoung says, knowing full well that it’s only been around ten seconds.

“Okay. I… I’m good.” Johnny looks down at Ten, blinking hard to keep himself from crying. He climbs back into bed and pulls the covers over himself. “You can do it now.”

Doyoung curls his hand into a fist, and when he uncurls it, he’s gone.

Johnny watches the clock start ticking back to life, and the fan whirr in its corner. Ten rolls over in his sleep, mumbling something or the other.

Johnny turns away and pretends to go back to sleep, burying his eyes in his pillow.


	7. Just Like That David Soul Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten looks at the bed opposite. The sheets are still crumpled, and there’s a clipboard by the side with Johnny’s name on it. “Hey Haechan, did you see the guy who was in this bed?”
> 
> “Tall, dork, and handsome? Yeah, he went home a while ago.” Haechan grins. “Should I have gotten his number for you?”
> 
> “I- No, dammit, kid, I don’t need your help.” Ten scowls.

Ten wakes up to find Haechan sitting by the edge of his bed, snoring.

_Jesus_.

“Hey,” Ten nudges Haechan’s chin with his foot. “What are you doing here?”

Haechan jolts awake, rubbing his drool off on his uniform sleeve. “Oh my god! Ten!”

“What are you doing here?” Ten glances over at the next bed, which is empty, thankfully enough. He hates having to share hospital rooms. It makes him more unwell.

“Mama told me you were in an elevator and it crashed and I thought you died but you didn’t die and I’m-”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Haechan waves a hand dismissively. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“No.”

“Oh, well, I brought pork buns,” Haechan reaches for a box on Ten’s bedside table.

Ten looks at the bed opposite. The sheets are still crumpled, and there’s a clipboard by the side with Johnny’s name on it. “Hey Haechan, did you see the guy who was in this bed?”

“Tall, _dork_ , and handsome? Yeah, he went home a while ago.” Haechan grins. “Should I have gotten his number for you?”

“I- No, dammit, kid, I don’t need your help.” Ten scowls.

“He was really cute though. Except I think he’s blind or something.”

Ten’s eyes widen. _Did something happen to Johnny when the elevator…_

“Oh, no, nothing like that, it’s just that he thought I was your brother. How dumb can he be?” Haechan laughs, ripping the tape off the box of pork buns. He holds one out to Ten. “Pork bun?”

“Thanks, I’m starving.” Ten manages to down one in three bites.

“No kiddim,” Haechan says, mouth full of pork bun.

Ten picks up his second pork bun and frowns at Johnny’s bed. It’s not like Johnny to leave without saying anything to Ten, not after all the things that happened that morning.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Johnny smiles vaguely at Jaehyun, who stops talking to smile back.

“I’m sorry, Jae, I wasn’t listening.” Johnny admits.

“It’s okay, I’m sure you’re exhausted.” Jaehyun pats Johnny’s knee. “I should get going.”

“Thanks for checking in on me.” Johnny wants to be casual and fine and hold Jaehyun like it’s nothing, but the guilt’s got a chokehold on him and all he can do is sort of smile.

“I’ll see you tomo- Or, you know what, you should take a day off.” Jaehyun kisses Johnny on the cheek. “I’ll call you up tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

Johnny watches Jaehyun head off down the hallway, then closes the door to his apartment, sighing. _Why’d the angels mess with_ us _of all people?_

He starts pulling food out of his fridge to reheat for dinner, but he can hardly focus on anything.

_Ten and I have broken up twelve times. But we got back together every time, right? That’s too much of a coincidence for two people who aren’t soulmates._

_Maybe the god of fate messed up on us._

Johnny finds himself staring at his microwave, his finger dangling in front of the start button.

_What the fuck are you thinking, Johnny?_

_Gods_ don’t _mess up._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Are you sure?”

Ten rolls his eyes, hard, so his sister doesn’t miss it even with the call’s shitty frame rate. “Yeah, they said I could go home. It’s not anything serious.”

“But you just said the elevator fu- _freaking_ crashed!” His sister says, casting a nervous glance towards the toddler playing with blocks on the floor behind her. “That’s like some Final Destination stuff right there, Ten.”

“Tell me about it.” Ten flops dramatically on his couch, phone still in hand.

“Were you the only one in the elevator?”

Ten studies his sister’s earnest, pixelated face for a few seconds, pretending his video’s lagging or something. _I could tell her the truth…_

Ten suddenly remembers lying on the floor of the tilted elevator, sucking on Johnny’s lips.

“Yeah.” Ten screws his face up. “What are the odds, right?”

“Oh my god.” His sister heaves a huge sigh. “What the hell did you do in your past life to deserve this shi- _stuff_?”

Ten’s mind blanks out until there’s nothing but Johnny’s hot breath against his face.

_‘Can you kiss me?’_ Ten had asked, trying to look into Johnny’s eyes, but he was too close to focus on. _‘Please?’_

Johnny hadn’t hesitated for even a quarter of a second.

“Ten. Hello? Is your video working? Can you hear me?”

Ten blinks at his sister’s worried face on his phone screen. “Y- Yeah, I’m just… Tired.”

“Oh, duh, of course,” His sister says. “You should get some rest. It’s around nine in the evening there, right?”

Ten glances at the clock. The second hand seems to stall for one long moment before ticking on to the next division. _Weird_.

“Yeah, I think I’ll turn in early tonight.” Ten says.

“Okay, good night, lil bro,” Ten’s sister blows a kiss at her screen. “Take care. _Please_.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the elevator suddenly fucking broke down when _I_ was on it-”

“I know, I know,” Ten’s sister purses her lips. “I just get worried about you, okay? Stay out of trouble.”

“I will.” Ten promises her.

He dreams about Johnny that night. Nothing in particular – Ten doesn’t later remember where they are, what’s going on, or if anything is going on at all. It’s all just Johnny, his warm smile, his warm hands, his warm breath tickling Ten’s ear.

_‘Don’t give up on us.’_

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“I’m uh,” Johnny racks his brains for something appropriate to say. “Old-fashioned that way.”

“Really?” Jaehyun’s smile is teasing. In other circumstances, Johnny would’ve played along, or maybe kissed him. But Johnny’s not been up to playing along lately.

“Yeah, I’m not… that… _into_ sex.” Johnny cringes at himself when he says that out loud.

Jaehyun arches an eyebrow. “Okay.”

“Or making out. Or any kind of touching.” Johnny adds, his face heating up. “I’m just not a touchy-touchy person.”

Jaehyun’s teasing smile tilts into a grimace. “Oh. I, uh, sorry if I put you in any uncomfortable situation-”

“No, no, don’t worry, you haven’t,” Johnny reassures him quickly.

“But I didn’t know that you- And I’ve always been so-”

Johnny leans forward and plants his lips on Jaehyun’s to shut him up.

_Sorry, Ten._ Johnny thinks, when he feels Jaehyun’s hands rest tentatively on his cheeks. He almost tilts his head to make things for comfortable for them both, but guilt gets the better of him. He feels like everything is cheating, like even being alone with Jaehyun on this park bench is cheating, even though he and Jaehyun have technically been dating for a little over three months now.

Jaehyun pulls away. “I’m confused.”

“Me too.” Johnny says, though his confusion’s coming from somewhere else entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“You okay, Johnny?” Jaehyun asks, his finger playing around on Johnny’s knee, oh so lightly that Johnny wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been so fucking stressed about every single detail of right now.

“Yeah.”

Jaehyun doesn’t ask, _‘Has something been bothering you? You’ve been acting weird lately._ ’ He doesn’t grab Johnny by the chin and force him to face him as he says, _‘What’s wrong? Tell me.’_

_That’s what Ten would’ve done._

Jaehyun just pulls his mouth into a straight line and looks down at his sneakers. “If there’s anything you wanna talk about…”

“No.” Johnny says abruptly. “No, I mean, there’s nothing, I’m sorry, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun leans back against the bench, looking up for the stars, but getting the glare from the park lights instead.

Jaehyun doesn’t say, _‘You wouldn’t keep apologizing if you didn’t have something to apologize for.’_

_Because that’s what Ten would’ve said._

Johnny fixes Jaehyun with a sad smile, feeling the guilt close around his neck like a vise. Jaehyun’s a perfect guy on all counts. He’s kind, understanding, patient, sweet, and ridiculously handsome on top of that. And Johnny knows that Jaehyun’s perfect for him. The god of fate got that much right.

“It’s getting late,” Jaehyun says, in that gentle bed-time tone he always takes when they’re alone. “We should head home.”

“Yeah, I’m sor-” Johnny stops himself from apologizing again. He’s starting to look like a guilty cheater, and Jaehyun doesn’t deserve that. “I can drop you off at your place tonight.”

Jaehyun stops in mid-stretch to give Johnny a goofy smile. “Using _my_ car?”

Johnny slaps himself on the forehead _. Right. Stupid Johnny. You don’t have a car, why even offer to bring Jaehyun home_? “Yeah. Sor- I’m a dumb-dumb.”

“It’s okay, you’re _my_ dumb-dumb,” Jaehyun takes Johnny’s hands in his, pulling Johnny to his feet.

“But anyway, you really don’t need to drop me off at my place tonight,” Johnny says as they start walking to the parking lot.

Jaehyun laughs, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. “It’s along the way, it’s really okay.”

Johnny just nods and goes along with it, like he’s gone along with everything for the past few months. The dates, holding hands, cute texts – He even kissed Jaehyun back, even though each kiss made him feel grosser and grosser inside.

“Son of a bitch.” Jaehyun says as they pull out of their parking slot.

“What’s up?” Johnny asks anxiously.

Jaehyun steps out of the car and squats next to the front tire. Johnny, not knowing what to do, steps out of the car and squats next to him.

“My tires are slashed.” Jaehyun frowns, flashing some light from his phone onto the deflated tires.

“Shit.” Johnny fumbled for his phone. “Should we call the police?”

“Yeah.” Jaehyun groans as he gets up. He softens his expression when he catches Johnny looking at him, giving Johnny a half-assed smile though his eyes look like he’s ready to murder someone. “Guess you got your wish… ish.”

“I never wished for your tires to get slashed!” Johnny looks taken aback.

“I meant I can’t drop you off tonight, dumb-dumb.” Jaehyun says, flicking Johnny casually on the arm.

A deep, mechanical purr from somewhere else in the parking lot draws their attention. They find themselves in the headlights of a sleek sports car.

The driver rolls down the window. “Need any help, man?”

“Oh, uh, no thanks,” Jaehyun waves a hand kindly. “Johnny, help me push the car out of their way.”

Johnny’s too busy looking past the glare of the car’s headlights, because Ten’s sitting in the passenger seat, staring back at him with the same lost, confused expression.

_What are the odds…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taeyong’s driving a 911 Carrera, in case anyone cares.


	8. Everybody Hates Haechan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hi, I’m Mark.” The class president extends a hand.
> 
> Haechan didn’t figure that mortals were still into shaking hands, but he shakes Mark’s hand anyway, holding onto the hem of his sleeve to keep his wrist hidden. “Hi Mark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next couple of chapters are going to go waaay back in time and they're about my real nct fav... Haechan

_Present_

Haechan peeks over the hood of the car. He can see two figures ambling out of the park, but they don’t seem to be in any rush, holding hands and swinging them around like they’ve got all the time in the world.

_Johnny sure has a lot of nerve holding that Jaehyun guy’s hand when he’s supposed to be in love with Ten,_ Haechan thinks bitterly, tucking the switchblade back into his pocket. He crawls away until he’s at the edge of the parking lot, then dashes across the street.

He ducks into a waiting shed to watch Ten and Taeyong-the-lawyer-guy come out of a nearby restaurant, not holding hands. _Good old Ten._

Haechan realizes that Jaehyun guy’s car isn’t blocking Taeyong-the-lawyer-guy’s way out of the parking lot. _Shit. My plan sucks._

He shuts his eyes and balls his hand into a fist, mostly out of habit.

_‘Don’t notice the tires until you’ve backed out, don’t notice the tires until you’ve backed out,’_ Haechan mouths under his breath.

That Jaehyun guy smiles at Johnny so brightly Haechan can see it from across a street and parking lot. He doesn’t notice the slashed tires until the car’s already well out of the slot, blocking the way for Taeyong-the-lawyer-guy’s sleek sports car.

“ _Yes!_ ” Haechan mutters under his breath, pumping his fist gently.

The woman beside him in the waiting shed frowns.

“Sorry.” Haechan gives her a semi-apologetic smile. “I had coffee. You know… us kids and caffeine.”

⚪

_Three years ago_

Haechan’s never been a huge fan of the whole _soulmate_ thing.

He knows it’s a big deal among all the other minor gods. It’s a great invention, he supposes, though he’s never seen anything ingenious about it. He can play Go Fish with the mortals, too. It’s nothing special.

He really doesn’t see the point in pairing off every mortal on the face of the Earth. What does it do? What does it achieve?

Anyway, Haechan thinks it’s stupid, so he says so in front of all the other minor gods, but they start giving him a fucking _sermon_.

“You kids are too shortsighted to see…”

Once the older gods start talking down to him like that, he knows it’s time to zone out. Haechan thinks about playing some games with the mortals’ lotteries – that’s always fun.

“Haechan are you even listening?”

“Yeah-uh,” Haechan grunts, wondering how much the lottery’s jackpot has inflated since the last time he messed with it.

“Haechan.” One of the oldest gods is frowning at him, arms crossed, one hand balled into a fist glowing red with fire.

_Oh fuck._

Haechan blinks then, and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself in a small apartment. He feels bloated and heavy, and finds his body was firmly rooted to the ground by gravity or something equally cumbersome.

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck._ Haechan stares down at his hands in a mix of confusion and irritation. _I’m a fucking_ mortal _._

“Haechan, honey?” An unfamiliar voice calls from the next room.

Haechan realizes then that he’s been turned into a mortal.

Haechan pulls the sleeves of his hoodie down to his elbows to look at his wrists. There’s no circle, or half-circle, or any mark.

_At least I’m not 100% a mortal._ Haechan sighs as the door opens.

An unfamiliar middle-aged woman smiles at him from the doorway. “Haechan, sweetie, you’re going to be late for school.”

_School?_ Haechan flops onto his back. _Fuck me, I have to go to fucking SCHOOL._

⚪

Haechan learns three important things about his own mortality on his trip to school.

  1. He still has his powers.



He flips a coin in the bus, using his powers to have it heads-up 30 out of 30 times, and it does, against all odds. Then he tries to teleport out of this crowded bus, only to find himself still standing in the bus, but with a constipated expression.

  1. Sort of.



Haechan notices the kid beside him staring curiously at his clean wrists. _Right. All the other mortals have that dumb soulmate shit._ So he pulls his hoodie on and tugs on the sleeves till they reach his fingers.

  1. He’s stuck in this stupid heavy mortal body.



Haechan lumbers into the school his “mother” told him he’s transferring into – he guesses that the whole having-a-mother thing will never not be weird. He lumbers to the vice principal’s office, and lumbers after the vice principal as she takes him to one of the drab-looking classrooms.

Haechan doesn’t like classrooms, or schools. A god of luck has no place here, even though students are always clasping their hands, expecting him to do something with their multiple-choice exams.

“Good morning everyone, this is your new classmate, Lee Haechan,” The vice principal announces to the class of students clearly not paying attention.

“Kids, say hello,” Their homeroom teacher sighs.

“Hello.” Four or five kids say, though only half of them sound sincere.

The vice principal grinds her teeth. “Who’s the class president here?”

The class mumbles something almost in unison, so it ends up a garbled mess.

“I am!” A boy says, standing up from somewhere near the back row. He’s all clean-faced, cheerful, and just so _fresh_ -looking that it’s ruining Haechan’s entire morning.

“Please show Haechan around.” The vice principal says, practically dumping Haechan in the class president’s hands.

The class president nods solemnly, like he’s got some important job to do, and he’s not just being asked to baby-sit the new kid.

“Hi, I’m Mark.” The class president extends a hand.

Haechan didn’t figure that mortals were still into shaking hands, but he shakes Mark’s hand anyway, holding onto the hem of his sleeve to keep his wrist hidden. “Hi Mark.”

The seat beside Mark is empty – just Haechan’s luck – so Haechan dumps his backpack on the floor and sits down.

The homeroom teacher resumes calling out the attendance, scrutinizing each detail of every student’s uniform. He stops and stares at Haechan. “Mr. Lee Haechan, that jacket is not part of the uniform.”

Mark looks nervously at Haechan, like they’re being called out together or something.

“I uh,” Haechan’s not ready to be called a freak by a bunch of teenage mortals for not having that fucking soulmate symbol on his wrists. “I have a skin condition.”

_Fuck, Haechan, now they’re going to call you a freak for having leprosy or some shit._

_Is leprosy still a thing?_

The homeroom teacher makes a sour face. “Pardon?”

“Sir, he has to keep his hoodie on,” Mark says. “For medical reasons.”

Haechan frowns at Mark when the homeroom teacher gives up and moves on to the next person.

“I got you, dude,” Mark waggles a hand in what Haechan assumes is a gang symbol.

“Thanks.” Haechan tries to approximate the gang symbol back at him.

⚪

Haechan soon learns that when Mark Lee says that he’s “got” you, he doesn’t take it lightly. For the rest of the day and well into the school year, every time a teacher would ask Haechan to remove his jacket, Mark would pipe up, explaining Haechan’s fictional skin condition in a voice just quiet enough not to embarrass Haechan.

He never once asks about the skin condition, though they spend the entire day together, from morning till dismissal. He just asks friendly, small-talk questions like what school did Haechan come from (he had to pull one out of his ass), or how many siblings Haechan has (none), or did Haechan watch the latest basketball game (he did not).

When Mark finds out that Haechan’s been taking the bus to school, he squeaks out, “ _WhAT_?” 

Haechan smiles, ready for Mark to expose his one flaw: classism. He knows Mark is rich and has a dedicated chauffeur.

“You can just ride with me, dude!” Mark says, slapping Haechan playfully on the arm. “Where do you live?”

Haechan grimaces as he tries to describe his address, not sure how much detail mortals usually use to describe their homes.

⚪

It’s not that Haechan’s fake house is that bad. It’s on the small side, but his fake mother keeps it clean. His neighbors are mostly geriatric and quiet, save for the two across the hall. One of them is an old Japanese lady who has too many cats, and the other is some university student who’s always bringing his boyfriend home.

Haechan’s been around for a thousand years or so, and he’s seen _everything,_ so he’s not a prude. But it’s their laughing that really gets him. His neighbor and his neighbor’s boyfriend laugh so hard and loud when they’re together that Haechan wishes they would just have more sex so they’d shut up.

Haechan’s fake mother had to go visit her mother (Haechan’s fake grandmother?) one week, leaving Haechan to do the laundry. He stuffs everything into a basket and lugs it to the laundry room, then has a staring contest with one of the machines for a good ten minutes.

“Excuse me,” Haechan’s university student neighbor says, lugging a laundry basket behind him.

“Sorry.” Haechan steps out of the way and watches him start to dump clothes into the machine. Then he dumps in some… soap? Haechan didn’t realize mortals had made everything so confusing in the last hundred years.

“What’re you staring at?” His neighbor asks, yawning loudly.

Haechan’s not above asking mortals for help at this point, but his neighbor doesn’t seem half as nice as Mark.

_Well, no one is._

Haechan rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I uh, can you please help me…”

“I got you, little guy.”

“Thanks.” Haechan doesn’t point out that his neighbor is literally the same height as him.

Haechan learns three new things about his neighbor that day:

  1. His name is Ten, or at least that’s what he wants Haechan to call him.
  2. Ten’s studying to be a lawyer, god knows why.
  3. Ten loves his boyfriend enough to do his laundry for him, all the way to folding up his dorky plaid shirts.



⚪

Haechan’s just starting to get the hang of being a mortal when his old life suddenly comes to bother him. He’s sitting at the kitchen table helping his fake mother dry some washed radishes when his fake mother’s mouth freezes in mid-sentence.

Haechan looks up to find the clock on the wall frozen as well. _Well shit._

“Haechan! Haechan!”

Haechan rolls his eyes. _Of all the bitches to appear in my fucking kitchen on this fucking day…_ “Hi Doyoung.”

Doyoung materializes by the fridge. “Haechan, we need to talk.”

“And here I was thinking you were here to ask how I’m doing,” Haechan rolls his eyes harder. “What’s so urgent that you won’t let me finish washing these goddamn radishes, Doyoung?”

“Do you still have your powers?”

Haechan folds his hands on the table and glares at Doyoung. “What the fuck do you need my powers for?”

“Do you have them or not?” Doyoung looks fidgety, so Haechan decides to play with him a little.

“I mean, how hard could it be to drop by and be like, _How’s life as a mortal, Haechan_?” Haechan tries to mimic Doyoung’s voice, earning an offended gasp from the angel.

Doyoung grinds his teeth. “ _How’s life as a mortal, Haechan?_ ”

“Sad as fuck, thanks for asking,” Haechan picks up a clean radish slice and chomps on it. “You know mortals are always hungry? It’s exhausting eating this much.”

Doyoung sighs. “Well have you learned anything about soulmates?”

“Only that it’s a stupid system and you should tell your boss I said that, word for word.” Haechan chomps on another radish slice.

“I’d _never_ -”

“I’m joking.” Haechan says. “But it’s a stupid system and nothing’s gonna change my mind.”

Doyoung purses his lips. “We’ll see about that.”

Haechan doesn’t like it when the god of fate or any of his goddamn angels start being cryptic like that, so he changes the subject. “What did you want from me?”

“Your powers.” Doyoung says. “Do you still have them?”

“Sure, I’ve still got most of them.” Haechan crunches a radish slice irritably. “What do you need them for?”

Doyoung smiles, and Haechan doesn’t like his Cheshire cat smile one bit. “It’s a soulmate-related thing, if you don’t mind-”

“Well, duh, you’re the god of fate’s bitch.” Haechan mutters.

Doyoung opens his mouth to snap back at Haechan, then uses every diplomatic fiber of his being to close his mouth again.

He takes a deep breath and says, “I need you to help me break your neighbor and his boyfriend up.”

Haechan makes a face. _This sounds like the kind of godly meddling that doesn’t sit well with me_. “Why?”

“Because they’re not soulmates.”

_This is_ exactly _the kind of godly meddling that doesn’t sit well with me._


	9. Except A Few People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In all seriousness, you know what I think?” Haechan says. “The gods are just a different kind of people. They fuck up too. They can be unreasonable too. And sometimes they want things they shouldn’t, but they still do-”
> 
> Ten laughs. “Woah there, Haechan, slow down before someone fucking _smites_ us.”

_Two years ago_

 

Haechan scribbles down the last answer to his exam then sets his pencil down. He shuts his eyes and balls his hand into a fist under his desk, hoping no one notices the golden glow from his hand.

In his mind – it works differently from the mortals, who just take one thing at a time and can’t seem to really multitask – he starts searching for Doyoung. He finds the latter sitting in a motel room, watching Ten’s life unfold on the TV screen like a terrible drama.

Haechan drums up some extra energy, willing a small piece of his mind into the fly on Doyoung’s bedside table.

“Hey.” Haechan buzzes, through the fly.

Doyoung whirls around. “Haechan?”

“Yeah damn right.” Haechan the fly zips forward to sit on the covers next to Doyoung.

“What do you want?” Doyoung frowns. “I thought we were done?”

“Yeah, whatever. Are you happy now?” Haechan the fly nods over to the TV screen. “I have to put up with Ten crying the whole fucking night-”

“You can hear him?”

“No, but I know he’s crying because the next morning he looks like he’s stuck his head into a beehive and he can hardly talk and _are you fucking proud of yourself_ , Doyoung?”

“Well,” Doyoung looks thoughtful for a moment. “I guess so? It’s just work, Haechan. Nothing serious.”

“ _Nothing serious_? He’s a fucking mess! That guy was everything to him!” Haechan the fly buzzes indignantly. “He just dropped out of law school and-”

“Whoa there, Haechan, calm down.” Doyoung pats the fly on the head with one finger. “Why do you care so much all of a sudden?”

“I didn’t think breaking them up would… do _that_ to him!” Haechan feels gross for even agreeing to help Doyoung. “Why _don’t_ you care?”

“I’m just doing my job, Haechan,” Doyoung says tensely. “And he’ll be much happier with his soulmate, you’ll see.”

“Fuck that soulmate shit.” Haechan says, starting to let go of the fly little by little. “Fuck that shit.”

Haechan empties himself from the fly’s mind, if you can call it that, and brings all of himself back into his desk, where someone’s tapping him gently on the arm.

_Who else could it be._

“Haechan?”

Haechan sits up and wipes his face on his sleeve. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep or started crying.  

“You okay?” Mark asks.

“Yeah, I…” Haechan looks around the classroom, which is empty save for the two of them.

“I submitted your paper for you.” Mark says. “I told Teacher Kim you didn’t get much sleep last night and stuff… but what’s up?”

Haechan shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Was it the exam?”

Haechan had almost forgotten about it. “No, of course not.”

Mark’s easy smile comes back. “ _Of course not_. I forgot you were a genius.”

“What else would I be?” Haechan scoffs. “Come on, let’s get ice cream before going home.”

“Your treat?” Mark asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“The fuck, Mark? You’re the rich one here,” Haechan whines, shoving his pencils and erasers into his backpack.

“ _Really_?” Mark’s smile always goes higher on one side when he’s teasing Haechan like this, and Haechan can’t say that he hates it. “Who said so?”

 ⚪

Mark’s mansion says so. His personal chauffeur and two Range Rovers say so. Literally everything that Mark owns, down to his limited edition one-of-500-in-the-world sneakers say so.

But Haechan still pays for the ice cream, grumbling when the convenience store cash register dings.

“Thanks, Haechan,” Mark says, giving Haechan a quick side hug before concentrating all his efforts on his ice cream cone.

_He’s really such a mortal like that. Concentrates on only one thing at a time,_ Haechan thinks fondly as they leave the convenience store to get back into the Range Rover.

“Where to?” Mark’s chauffeur asks.

“Haechan’s hou- Oh wait,” Mark turns to Haechan excitedly. “Could you teach me History? Just for a short while, or if it’s too much trouble you know you don’t need to-”

“I already bought you ice cream, Mark Lee, are you not satisfied?” Haechan whines.

“You could’ve just said no,” Mark pouts.

Haechan pats the back of the chauffeur’s seat. “I guess we’re going to Master Mark’s house because I have to teach him History.”

Mark beams at him. “Aw, thanks, Haechan, you’re the best!”

“Where would you be without me?” Haechan shakes his head dramatically. Then he realizes he’s been occupying Mark’s one-track mind for too long and tells him, “Your ice cream’s melting.”

“Oh shit.”

⚪

Haechan really enjoys going to Mark’s mansion, because it reminds him of the palace of the gods back home. Very vaguely, but still.

“Papaaaaaaaa!” Mark shouts in the grand entrance when he and Haechan are let in by the housekeeper. “I’m hoooome!”

Haechan looks up to find one of Mark’s dads jogging down the staircase in what looks like pajamas. Haechan’s gathered from the trophies around the house that he’s an athlete of some sort, but he’s never seen the man do anything but wait for Mark to come home every day.

“How was school- Oh, hey, Haechan! How’re you doing?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Anyone making moves on our Mark?” Mark’s dad asks.

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“Bummer.” Mark’s dad snaps. “I wonder why. He seems handsome enough, don’t you think?”

Haechan doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that.

“ _Papa_. Please.” Mark’s face is red as he grabs Haechan by the arm to drag him to the library. “Haechan’s gonna teach me History for the test tomorrow. We’ll be in the library.”

⚪

In his second year of being a mortal, Haechan learns three things about high school students.

  1. They’re the gods of being shortsighted.



Everything Haechan’s doing in school seems to be only to get him into college, without a single thought as to what would come after college. Haechan hopes that his exile will be lifted soon, because the other high school mortals obsessing over college is starting to make his head hurt on the daily.

  1. None of them are as kind, sweet, or hardworking as Mark Lee.



That’s self-explanatory. Haechan’s tried talking to the others, and they’re starting to be almost friendly to him, even though he’s The Weird Kid Who’s Always Wearing Long Sleeves Even In The Summer. But talking to the others feels like a waste of breath, because none of them seem to have the same gravity that Mark does. Mark’s not overly serious or anything, but he cares about everything so deeply that Haechan finds himself wondering if maybe Mark might be another exiled immortal.

_Oh, no, wait_. _He’s definitely mortal._

Because Mark has one fatal flaw that he shares with almost everyone else in high school:

  1. They really buy into the whole soulmate thing.



 

Haechan’s sitting on the floor of Mark’s bedroom, smashing his thumbs away on Mark’s new game device… machine. Being trapped as a mortal is almost worth it, if just for _Mario Kart._

“Hey Haechan?” Mark asks, in that casual, no-big-deal tone he always uses when he’s about to drop a philosophical bomb on Haechan.

Haechan drops a blue shell on Mark’s car. “Yeah?”

“Dammit,” Mark stomps in irritation, then remembers he was about to drop a philosophical bomb. “Oh, uh, do you think there’s really a god of fate out there?”

Haechan loses his lead. “What?”

“I know it sounds stupid, but like, do you believe in the god of fate?”

“I’ve never thought about it.” Haechan says. “Why, do you?”

“Of course.” Mark says brightly. “I mean, this whole soulmate thing can’t be random, right? There’s got to be a god of fate who knows what’s best for everyone… right?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan drops down another two places. This is unlike him. “How can the god of fate really know what’s best for _everyone_?”

“It’s his job.” Mark says.

Haechan remembers Doyoung. After that time he’d helped Doyoung split Ten and his boyfriend up, Haechan had felt terrible. Even if he was helping Doyoung just “do his job.” So he’d gone behind Doyoung’s back and used just a little bit of his powers to get Ten a job working for Mark’s other dad. And he’d made sure that Ten and his boyfriend would run into each other at the coffee shop said boyfriend was working the summer at.

Haechan was actually pleased to find loud laughter echoing in their hallway again, coming from the apartment across the hall.

“Ha!” Mark pumps his fists in the air. “I beat you!”

“ _Once_.” Haechan snaps back to reality to glower at Mark. “And you were distracting me!”

“No I wasn’t.” Mark scoffs. “I won fair and square-”

“Why do you care about the god of fate anyway? He’s probably a crusty old loser who doesn’t care about either of us.” Haechan mutters. Around half of that statement is true.

“I’m sure he _or she_ cares about us,” Mark says gently. “Or maybe _they_ care about us. Gods probably don’t mess around with gender like we people do.”

Haechan smiles. Mark is his favorite mortal of all time, hands down. Even if he does kind of suck at Mario Kart.

⚪

_One Year Ago_

“Who’s this?” Doyoung asks, frowning.

“None of your business.” Haechan stands protectively between Doyoung and Mark, who’s sitting frozen on the floor, trying to get a handful of chips into his mouth. “Fuck off, Doyoung.”

“He sure is cute,” Doyoung says, and Haechan hates the cryptic tone the former’s voice has taken on.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Doyoung’s expression hardens. _Oh shit,_ Haechan groans internally. _He knows._

“I want to know if you’re the one who’s been messing with my work.” Doyoung crosses his arms.

“What work?”

“Cut the crap, Haechan, I know you’ve been forcing Ten and Johnny to get back together every time I’ve just finished getting them-”

“ _Forcing_?”

“Yeah, what else do you call using your godly powers to make sure two mortals are dating?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that what you do?” Haechan scowls. “And anyway, I don’t even need to force anything because _they’re in love_. The only one forcing anything here is you.”

“How many times do I have to explain this to you,” Doyoung rubs his glowing temples. “They’re! Not! Soulmates!”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“You _should_!” Doyoung’s voice cracks. “There’s an order to things! You’re preventing their best happiness by forcing them to be with each other!”

“Maybe they don’t want their _best_ _happiness_ or whatever the fuck you call it!” Haechan stomps on the hardwood floor of Mark’s room. “Maybe they just want each other! Is that so hard to under-”

“You know your boyfriend has a soulmate, right?” Doyoung’s voice is low now, and Haechan doesn’t like it. “He’s a regular mortal. He has a soulmate.”

Haechan doesn’t need to look down and see the dark circle on Mark’s exposed wrist. He knows Mark’s met his soulmate, whoever it is. He just doesn’t care. “So?”

“What if you’re keeping him from being _really_ happy?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure took you long to correct me, huh?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Haechan says again, more forcefully this time. “And I’m not making him do anything. It’s his choice if he wants to hang out with me or his soulmate or whoever the fuck he wants to hang out with. I don’t care.”

Doyoung lifts an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean, I do care that he’s happy, I just want him to be happy,” Haechan balls his hands into fists. “But I don’t give a shit about all of the soulmate crap-”

“If the other gods hear you, you’ll be stuck here forever.” Doyoung hisses, looking around nervously like he’s worried the room might be bugged. “Don’t you want to go home?”

Haechan glances at Mark, frozen in mid-chomp, for only a split second, but he knows that Doyoung catches him. “Of course I do.”

“Then start believing in the soulmate crap, and start soon,” Doyoung says. “Be more like your boyfriend here.”

Haechan narrows his eyes. “Have you been spying on us?”

“The god of fate and I keep tabs on all mortals, don’t flatter yourself.” Doyoung says.

“Leave us alone.” Haechan says. “Please.”

“Then leave my work alone.” Doyoung says right back at him. “Please.”

“Fine.”

The room falls back into motion as soon as Doyoung vaporizes. Mark starts coughing, choking on one of the chips he’d been stuffing into his mouth, and Haechan has to pat his back until he survives it.

“Aw, thanks, Haechan, you’re a lifesaver.” Mark sputters, smiling up at Haechan.

Haechan smiles back, starting to forget what his real home is like. _Not that I really care._

⚪

_A few months ago_

Haechan’s powers are starting to tire him out. The other day he used them to shove off the job applications covering Johnny’s and get him a job at the same building as Ten. And he broke out a sweat. Which was strange.

Even speaking through animals was tiring him out, but he was sick and tired of Doyoung’s bullshit and wanted him to know it.

Haechan knows that his eyes are circled in gray and his skin’s starting to take on this sallow look from using his powers so much, but Doyoung’s been working _too_ hard lately, and he’s not going to let Doyoung win now.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks one day at school.

“Yeah.” Haechan says. “Didn’t get much sleep.”

“Me too.” Is all Mark says, before picking up his pencil and doodling aimlessly in the margins of his notebook.

Haechan doesn’t know how to revive the conversation after that, so he lets it drop.

Mark doesn’t offer Haechan a ride home, so Haechan bikes home.

When he gets home, on top of everything, his fake mom asks him to do the laundry.

Haechan lugs the basket to the laundry room, thinking about Mark. He hasn’t texted any funny things he found on the internet, or called to ask something about the homework. That’s not like Mark at all.

“Hiya,” Haechan says when he notices someone else in the laundry room.

“Hi Haechan,” Ten says, throwing something into the washing machine anxiously.

Haechan doesn’t really want to know what it is, especially if his plan’s working. He flashes Ten a V sign before pulling the washing machine next to Ten’s open.

“So how’s school?” Ten asks, throwing the rest of his load unceremoniously into the machine.

_School’s fine. School’s easy when you’ve been around for a couple thousand years._

_School isn’t the problem._

“Living hell, man.” Haechan grumbles, thinking about Mark. He realizes he’s been thinking about Mark for a solid hour now, or maybe even longer.

Which is sad.

He realizes Ten’s still talking to him, something about black and white.

“ _It don’t matter if you’re black or white_ ,” Haechan sings, before shaking his head at Ten. “Michael Jackson, you know? It’s all about equality these days.”

Haechan almost smiles at Ten’s exasperated look.

“Those boxers are going to bleed into your uniform.” Ten points at a bright purple pair of boxers.

Haechan was just planning to use his powers to keep the boxers from bleeding, but he’s worried he’ll get too exhausted to do his homework.

_Haechan you sound like a mortal. Ew._

“Oh fuck you’re right,” Haechan says, grabbing the said pair of boxers.

He stops, noticing something on Ten’s wrist. _Oh hell no._

“What?” Ten frowns back when he notices Haechan staring. “I’m not going to help you-”

“No, no, I don’t need your help. It’s just…” Haechan points at Ten’s arm. He doesn’t know what to say to sound like a regular mortal, so he sputters out, “Congrats.”

Ten looks down and seems just as confused to find the circle on his wrist, but much less angry. Haechan’s pissed. Doyoung’s really stepping up his annoying game.

Haechan sorts through his laundry, saving up his energy to pick a fight with Doyoung.

⚪

Haechan survives all of three days without texting, talking to, or hanging out with Mark Lee.

“Mark.” Haechan holds his arms out to stop Mark from the leaving the bathroom at school one day.

“Come on, Haechan, we have to get back to class.”

“Tell me what’s wrong first.”

Mark mouth curls up at one end in a semi-smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Uh, yeah, definitely, obviously.” Haechan crosses his arms. “What’s been happening to you?”

Mark looks down at the beige tiles, scuffing one shoe against the grouting. “I don’t wanna talk about it-”

“Screw that, Mark, you’re _going_ to talk about it-”

“Not here.” Mark says, and there’s this look in his eyes that Haechan’s seen a couple thousand times before in other people’s eyes. _Oh no._ “Let’s get ice cream.”

“The canteen ran out during lunch-”

“Yeah, _not here_.” Mark’s eyes honest-to-goodness twinkle under the fluorescent lights. “Come on.”

 

Haechan’s glad to be out of school, but he’s also a bit worried that Mark of all people is the one who suggested they skip class.

Mark taps his toes to the song playing on the radio while Haechan pays for both their cones. He’s looking a lot better, but Haechan’s still worried out of his mind. His brain’s becoming a scrambled egg from trying to keep tabs on Doyoung and Ten and Johnny and on top of that he’s worried about Mark and he’s wondering if worrying about Mark is draining his powers or making him more mortal.

The idea of becoming more mortal terrifies him.

“Here.” Haechan hands him an ice cream cone as they sit by the window of the store. “Now talk.”

“Thanks,” Mark sits down and takes a few bites of ice cream before saying, “It’s my dads.”

“What about them?”

_Are their jokes too unfunny? Are they too sweet on each other in front of you? Are they adopting more children?_

“They’re getting a divorce.” Mark says in a strange, flat voice.

“Oh.” Haechan’s struggling to figure out what to say. His forehead’s starting to sweat, so he drops his surveillance on Johnny and Ten and Doyoung, he stops all his powers and stops all the remotely godly things he’s doing and, just like a mortal, focuses on the person in front of him and no one else. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

“It’s ok-” Mark starts saying, as if by habit, then he stops himself. “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

“My dads,” Mark’s eyebrows are knit into this cute caterpillar on his forehead. “They’re _soulmates_.”

_Soulmates break up and get divorces all the time_ , Haechan’s tempted to say. _Don’t you pay any attention to what your lawyer dad does?_

But Haechan keeps his mouth shut. This is new to him, biting back his words. But Mark seems really upset, and Haechan doesn’t want to make it worse.

“They’re supposed to be happy together, right?” Mark’s stopped eating his ice cream, and it’s starting to drip down his hand.

_“Happy” is a feeling,_ Haechan wants to say, _And all feelings fade. It just depends how long it takes._

“Why would the gods let this just happen?” Mark’s ice cream has dribbled past his wrist at this point.

_I’m sure Doyoung’s trying desperately to fix this one, don’t worry._

“What do you think, Haechan?”

“When you’re soulmates with someone,” Haechan finds himself saying. “It means you have a special understanding of each other. It’s not something you’ll get from anyone else. And when you don’t have it, you miss it.”

Mark’s eyes are twinkling under the shop’s bright lights, and it only pushes Haechan’s word vomit on.

“So in the end, you’ll always want the person you’re supposed to be with. It’s just a matter of waiting,” Haechan feels like the god of fate is speaking through him, but he knows that these words are all his. He’s a mix of disgusted, confused, and utterly pleased with himself that he got a smile back on Mark’s face.

Mark still hasn’t realized that his ice cream’s dripped down to his elbow.

“Mark, your ice cream.” Haechan says.

“Oh, oh shit,” Mark laughs, reaching for some tissue. “What a mess.”

“I hope everything works out well for your dads,” Haechan says.

Mark smiles at him. “Me too.”

Mark’s hand stops wiping his arm for a moment, then the moment drags on.

“Hey!”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “I told you to leave us alone, Doyoung.”

“I’m just popping in to say that I’m proud of you,” Doyoung beams at him. “You’re starting to get what soulmates are for! See?”

“Fuck off, Doyoung.”

“You’ll be home in no time!” Doyoung gives Haechan an unwanted little hug and pats Haechan on the shoulder. “I can’t wait to bring you home!”

“Sure, whatever, piss off, Doyoung.”

Doyoung, for once, listens to him and vanishes just as quickly as he came.

“Fucking Doyoung.” Haechan mutters, before he realizes that Doyoung’s gone already.

“Huh?” Mark asks, lifting his eyebrows as he wipes his arms. “What did you say, Haech?”

“I think we should head back to school.” Haechan says, ignoring the confused look on Mark’s face.

“Uh… okay.”

⚪

Haechan’s not been this lost in a couple thousand years.

On one hand, if he keeps spouting this pro-soulmate rhetoric, Mark will be happy and he, Haechan, will finally be able to go home.

It’s a win-win situation. It’s everything he wants, without any effort.

_What about Ten? Sweet, stupid, terribly mortal Ten? You can’t just leave him._

“What did you want to hear?” Haechan rolls his eyes. “That I support you being a fucking homewrecker?”

“It’s not homewrecking if they’re not married.” Ten snaps, scooping up an armful of damp clothes. “And don’t swear, you’re still a kid.”

Ten’s better company than half the gods Haechan’s been forced to spend the last few millennia with.

“And yet you, a whole-ass _adult_ , are asking me, a lowly _kid_ , for advice,” Haechan says, throwing all his laundry into the machine.

“I’m not asking you for advice, I just want your _opinion,_ it’s different.”

_Oh, Ten._

“You sure like to fuck around with semantics a lot for someone who dropped out of law school,” Haechan says, dodging the damp sock Ten hurls in his direction. “It’s just my _opinion_!”

“I hope your clothes come out fucking tie-dyed,” Ten says, slamming the door to Haechan’s washing machine shut and starting it before the latter can say anything.

“Sike, you didn’t even put any soap!” Haechan says, pressing the emergency stop button.

Ten crumples into a dramatic heap on the laundry room floor. “Haechan, my life is such a mess, I can’t even pick on a _child_.”

_Well, Ten, my life’s such a mess, I can’t stop thinking about a_ child _. Well, he’s not a child, really – Oh, no, he definitely is._

_Haechan, stop thinking about him, you know you shouldn’t be getting too close to the mortals when you’re just going to leave them._

A small, quiet voice in Haechan’s mind says, _You’re going to break Mark’s heart._

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re a horrible person?” Haechan says, mostly to himself.

“I’m not.” Ten replies, surprising Haechan.

Haechan puts on a righteous front. “You see your ex-boyfriend happy with his new boyfriend and the first thing you think is, _hey, I should break them up and take Jason back for myself_ -”

“His name’s Johnny.”

_Man, it’s fun to mess with mortals. No wonder Doyoung does this all day._

“That’s beside the point. Your idea of cheering yourself up is bullying a fucking high school student.” Haechan rolls his eyes. It’s a whole lot of fun pretending not to be on Ten’s side. “You’ve got literally every warning flag for _psychopathy._ ”

“I think you mean _sociopathy_.” Ten says. This vein’s starting to pop on Ten’s temple and it’s really lifting Haechan’s mood.

“Yeah, whatever, they don’t teach that shit in high school.” Haechan leans against the washing machine as it starts whirring. “Can’t you be happy without making other people miserable?”

“I don’t want other people to be miserable,” Ten sighs. “I just want Johnny.”

There’s something about the way Ten says that that just takes all the fun out of everything. Haechan finds himself thinking about Mark, and how nice it would be if Haechan could just hang out with Mark for the next million years or so. He’d definitely bring Mario Kart to the home of the gods, they desperately need it up there.

“In all seriousness, you know what I think?” Haechan says. “The gods are just a different kind of people. They fuck up too. They can be unreasonable too. And sometimes they want things they shouldn’t, but they still do-”

Ten laughs. “Woah there, Haechan, slow down before someone fucking _smites_ us.”

“Some gods think they know everything about yo- us mortals,” Haechan catches himself before accidentally saying something weird. “But they don’t. You know yourself best, and you deserve to be happy.”

Ten blinks at Haechan for a moment. “Thanks, Haechan. I really needed that…?”

One of the washing machines beeps at them before Haechan can spill any more nuggets of wisdom.

⚪

Haechan closes his hand into a fist. His powers have been kind of unreliable lately, maybe he’s been straining them too hard, maybe he’s getting too set in his mortal ways – in that case he’s got to get out of here soon, or he’s going to _become_ one of them.

_But I’ve got to help Ten out. He needs me._

So Haechan furrows his brow, squeezes his eyes shut, and balls his hand up into a fist, letting the golden light seep out between the cracks in his fingers.

His mind’s cloudier than usual, and he can’t seem to tap into his powers like he usually does, but he starts pleading his powers, _Help Ten out. Give him a few minutes alone with Johnny. Please. Just a few minutes, that’s all Ten needs for Johnny to see…_

Haechan, in one of his scattered consciousnesses, hears something groan loudly, then snap.

And just like that, he’s shoved back into his body, standing in one of the cubicles in a bathroom at school. His forehead is clammy with sweat, and he’s out of breath.

He shuts his eyes and tries to see Ten, Johnny, or even Doyoung (he’s that desperate) – but nothing works. When he shuts his eyes he sees the backs of his eyelids, which is what he figures most mortals see.

He balls his hand into a fist, but the gold light is dim, even in the shadowy cubicle. It flickers for a few seconds, like a candle in the wind, then goes out completely.

_Fuck._

_My powers are fucking gone? What the fuck is happening?_


	10. It’s Time To Make A Change (For Once In My Life)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dongyoung!” Haechan’s practically jumping around. “I get it. I finally get it.” 
> 
> “Please don’t tell me you’ve shut Ten and Johnny in another elevator.” Doyoung sighs.
> 
> “No, no, I figured it out without even using my fucking powers,” Haechan grins. “Aren’t you proud of me?”
> 
> “Figured what out?”
> 
> “Everything.” Haechan beams. “I get why soulmates are so important.”

Haechan wakes up in the school’s infirmary, blinking in the little light that comes through the curtains.

The nurse comes into the room just as he sits up. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“What happened to me?” Haechan feels terrible, like his veins are filled with sludge. He feels tired and heavy and more _mortal_ than he ever has.

“You passed out in the bathroom,” The nurse says. “Good thing your friend found you and brought you here.”

“Mark?” Haechan asks groggily, still trying to come to terms with the fact the he, a god, albeit a minor one, _passed out_.

“Yeah,” The nurse smiles. “Really nice boy.”

_Tell me about it._ Haechan flops back onto the pillows. He wonders if this is what being hungover is like. In that case, why do mortals even drink alcohol? Do they hate themselves that much?

“Take it easy, your parents should be here to pick you up in a short while.”

 

When Haechan wakes up again, the nurse is talking in a low voice to some figure in the doorway.

“Haechan?” She places a hand over his, gently tapping him awake. “Your father’s here to pick you up.”

Haechan sits up as if electrocuted. _Father? What the hell?_

He finds himself looking up at a man he has never seen before in his life. But something about the man’s eyes is starting to piss him off, then he realizes.

“ _Dongyoung_?” Haechan screws up his face. “The fuck are you doing here?”

The nurse looks shocked, but Doyoung – slightly aged up, it seems – assures her that Haechan’s probably just lightheaded, he’s usually a very respectful son.

Haechan is confused out of his mind when Doyoung ushers him out of the clinic, carrying Haechan’s backpack (which Mark had left at the clinic while Haechan was asleep, typical Mark).

Haechan is doubly confused when Doyoung has a car with him.

“Get in,” Doyoung says, less gently. “I’m taking you home.”

“ _Home_ home?” Haechan asks, eyes wide.

“No, of course not.” Doyoung sighs. “I’d say the chances of you ever coming home are real thin after that stunt you pulled.”

“What?”

Doyoung pulls the car over and stares at Haechan. “Don’t play dumb. You put two mortals’ lives in unnecessary danger.”

“What are you talking about?” Haechan makes a face.

“Ten. And Johnny.” Doyoung’s eyebrow is twitching in clear concern. “You mean you really don’t know what you did?”

Haechan’s eyes go as wide as they can. “Did I kill them?”

“No, thankfully not.” Doyoung starts the car up again. “You just nearly did. You broke the elevator they were in. It dropped twelve floors before I was able to stop it.”

“Oh. Good.” Haechan twiddles his thumbs. “I mean it’s not good that they almost died. It’s just… I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to hurt them.”

Doyoung lifts both eyebrows. “You know, I thought it was going to take all afternoon before I’d wring an apology out of you.”

“I’m not that bad,” Haechan frowns. “And I don’t like other people getting hurt.”

“They’re not ‘other people’ to us, Haechan, they’re only mortals,” Doyoung corrects him, then softens his tone. “But I guess spending a lot of time with them has done you some good.”

“It’s completely fucked with my powers,” Haechan tries to ball his hand into a fist, but his fingers feel like they’re made of metal. “Ugh.”

“It’s not your powers that’s the problem. It’s your body.” Doyoung says. “The mortal body’s not built to handle the things you’ve been making it do. It’s too weak.”

Haechan drops his hand suddenly. “If this body dies, do I get to go home?”

“I- I don’t think so.” Doyoung frowns. “But don’t fucking try, I don’t want to have to fetch you from some limbo or wherever you’ll end up. Just try to fucking behave from now on so you can get home sooner.”

Haechan starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Doyoung frowns, pulling up to Haechan’s apartment building.

“Nothing,” Haechan grabs his backpack. “You just kinda sound like a real dad.”

⚪

Haechan’s never had parents.

Legend has it that he was born from someone’s first laughter, or a ray of the early morning sun, or something like that. He doesn’t remember, naturally.

So he doesn’t completely understand why Mark’s so torn up about his parents deciding to split up. But he tries to, because it’s Mark.

Haechan’s lying on the rug of Mark’s bedroom, listening to the song Mark’s been obsessed with, trying to drill a few facts about the “”Ancient”” Roman empire into Mark’s head.

Mark’s not listening to the song or Haechan. He’s hanging off the edge of the bed so his head’s upside down and his hair is hanging like a mop, and he’s just staring at Haechan so intensely that Haechan feels like he’ll soon catch fire.

“What’s up?” Haechan asks as casually as he can.

“My Papa’s moving out tomorrow.”

Haechan frowns. He likes Mark’s Papa a little bit more than Mark’s Daddy. Granted, his jokes never flew, but he seemed a lot louder and friendlier. “For good?”

“I think so.” Mark’s face is starting to get red from hanging his head upside down.

Haechan puts the History book down. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Mark thinks for a moment. It’s so clear on Mark’s face when he’s thinking, that it’s as if Haechan can see right through to his thoughts, though even with his powers at maximum, he knows he can’t.

“Yeah.” Mark says, turning over to right himself on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I think I need that.”

“I’m not a therapist, Mark.”

Mark laughs. “Yeah, I know, I just… I guess I’d prefer you to a therapist.”

Haechan smiles sarcastically. “Maybe I have a future there.”

“Maybe.” Mark taps his sock-covered feet on the rug.

Haechan scoots over to lean against the bed. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Mark doesn’t need any more encouraging than that. He spills everything out like a glass that’s been tipped over, literally pouring tears out into the nearest pillow he can grab. Haechan finds himself sitting on the bed next to Mark, patting his back and putting an arm around him. He doesn’t know what to say, because for a change this is something his “ancient” ass can’t give any advice on, so he just listens to Mark cry out all his frustrations.

Mark looks up at him, eyes extra sparkly with tears, a small smile on his face. “Are you still there?”

Haechan’s not seen a lot of cartoons, but he did see one where a light bulb appeared above one of the character’s heads when it came up with an idea.

This was a light bulb moment.

Haechan finally understands _everything_. The whole soulmate arrangement, _everything_.

“Yeah.” Haechan replies, pulling Mark into another hug. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, man,” Mark sniffles into Haechan’s hoodie.

⚪

“DONGYOUNG!” Haechan shouts, hands cupped around his mouth. “DONGYOUNG!”

The electric fan next to him suddenly stops whirring, blades frozen in midair. Haechan smiles. “Dongyoung!”

“Please, I’ve been going by ‘Doyoung’ for millennia,” Doyoung makes a face. “Get with the times.”

“Okay, okay, Dongyoung,” Haechan’s practically jumping around. “I get it. I finally get it.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve shut Ten and Johnny in another elevator.” Doyoung sighs.

“No, no, I figured it out without even using my fucking powers,” Haechan grins. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Figured what out?”

“Everything.” Haechan beams. “I get why soulmates are so important.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Haechan says. “It’s because mortals somehow find a way to get so lost in the, what, 80 years they’re alive? And they need something to cling to, and that’s what the soulmate thing is for them. It’s something to cling to. It makes them feel important. Like they mean something. Like someone cares about them. And I shouldn’t mess with their affairs because that’s not my place and I think and live on another level and I’ll never completely understand them, right?”

All this time Doyoung’s been standing there, his expression going from shades of confusion, to doubt, to a genuinely happy smile. “Oh, Haechan. _Finally_!”

“So I’m right?” Haechan asks excitedly. “I can go home?”

“Let me ask them,” Doyoung shuts his eyes for a moment. “The god of fate says you’re good with him. The elder gods said they’ll go with whatever the god of fate says, so yes, I guess so.”

Haechan hadn’t realized it was that easy for him to get home, and here he was wasting three years as a mortal.

_Three years isn’t a long time, Haechan. You’re thinking like a mortal now._

“Shall we go?” Doyoung asks, holding out a glowing white hand.

Haechan reaches out to take it, then finds himself pulling his hand back. “Wait, there’s some people I need to see first.”

“Huh?” Doyoung frowns. He’s not in any hurry himself, but he’d thought that Haechan would be anxious to get home after being trapped in a terrible, weak mortal body.

“I just need to say bye,” Haechan explains. “Because they probably won’t be around the next time I visit.”

⚪

“Oh, hey, Haechan,” Ten’s pulling clothes out from the dryer. “Where’s your basket?”

“I’m not doing any laundry today,” Haechan says. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

Ten frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…home.”

Ten’s frown deepens. “Like home outside the city or something?”

“No, I…” Haechan knows Doyoung’s watching him from somewhere, so he wonders if Doyoung will take it all back if he tells a mortal too much. “My _real_ home.”

Ten’s eyebrows go straight. “Haechan, are you high?”

_Great, now he thinks I’m on some kind of substance._

_Wait… That’s the perfect excuse._

“No.” Haechan says, in a very unconvincing voice. “I’m going back to my home, the home of the gods.”

“What the fuck.” Ten says, but he looks slightly amused.

“I’m a god, Ten,” Haechan says. “I’m a god of luck.”

“Really now? You don’t seem all that lucky to me.”

“It’s been hard for me to use my powers while I’ve been in this mortal form,” Haechan pats his stomach.

“And what have you been using your powers for, _O Lucky One_?” Ten leans on the dryer, grinning.

“I’ve been trying to get you and Johnny back together.”

Ten’s smile falters. “What?”

“I’ve been using my powers to get you and Johnny back together,” Haechan says again. “Mostly because I felt bad for using my powers to help break you up in the first place.”

“Haechan, this isn’t funny-”

“And you’ve been a good neighbor to me, despite everything, and I just wanted you to be as annoyingly happy as you were when you were with him.”

Ten slams the door to the dryer shut. “Haechan, stop.”

“I’m sorry about the elevator thing. I really didn’t mean to do that to you,” Haechan purses his lips. “And I hope you’re just as annoyingly happy with Taeyong, even if he isn’t my first choice for you.”

Doyoung clears his throat loudly from somewhere, making Ten jump.

“Who the fuck was that?” Ten asks, looking around.

Doyoung sighs as he materializes. “It’s me.”

Ten picks up the nearest heavy object, which is the bottle of detergent. “You fucking angel-ass bitch-”

“Look, I need to take Haechan away now,” Doyoung holds out a hand to try to stop Ten from hurling the bottle at him. “So just say your goodbyes so we can go.”

“I don’t understand…” Ten looks at Haechan. “Are you dead, Haechan?”

“No.” Haechan grimaces. “Kind of the opposite.”

“So you’re really a god?” Ten clutches the bottle of detergent like it’s a safety blanket in these confusing times.

“A very minor god,” Doyoung adds.

“Shut up, Dongyoung, you’re just a minor angel.” Haechan snaps.

Ten smiles for a moment at that, then frowns again. “You’re not coming back?”

“No. I’m done messing with mortals.” Haechan sighs. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Ten studies him for a moment, then the corner of his mouth curls up into a half-smile.

“I’m going to miss you.” Ten says. “Can I get a hug?”

Haechan steps forward and gives Ten the warmest hug he can muster without crying. Haechan can’t wait to be out of this weepy mortal body, he’s tired of crying so easily.

“Take care of yourself out there, okay?” Ten says, patting Haechan on the head though the latter is taller than him.

“I’m supposed to say that to you.” Haechan says.

“Whatever, I don’t care if you’re a minor god or a major god or a fucking demon or whatever you are,” Ten ruffles Haechan’s hair. “You’re still Haechan to me.”

Haechan’s actually glad when Doyoung clears his throat again and says, “We should get going.”

“Yeah.” Haechan manages to hold back his tears. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying, it’s just Ten, his romantically challenged neighbor. “Bye, Ten.”

“Bye, Haechan.”

⚪

Haechan knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

Haechan steps into Mark’s room to find the latter on the rug, playing some game with such intensity that Haechan has to laugh.

“Oh, hey, Haechan!” Mark doesn’t even pause the game when he gets up. “Did you forget something? You didn’t have to come back here, I could’ve brought it to school-”

Haechan frowns at the TV. “Mark, don’t you have a History exam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, _we_ have a History exam tomorrow.” Mark laughs. “But we already studied for it, right?”

Haechan’s about to launch into a whole Mark-you-definitely-have-not-studied-for-the-exam speech, but he realizes how meaningless and _mortal_ -ish it is for him to even think of that.

“I’m not going back to school tomorrow, Mark.”

“Huh?” Mark grins, poking Haechan in the ribs. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re chickening out on the exam-”

“I’m leaving, Mark. I’m not coming back to school tomorrow.” Haechan’s struggling keep his mouth a straight line. “Or ever.”

Mark’s grin slides into a frown. “Wh- What’s up, Haechan? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” Haechan looks up at Doyoung, who’s just floating around the room, invisible. It’s one thing to tell Ten about his being a god, since he’d been meddling with Ten’s life, but it was completely different with Mark. It feels like a bad idea, so Haechan keeps it cryptic and distant and says, “I’m going to be fine. You’d better be fine too, okay?”

“Haechan, you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t- It’s not like that, okay? We’re just not going to see each other anymore.” Haechan’s struggling to explain things partly because there’s too much he can’t say, and partly because Mark is looking at him like _that_.

“Haechan, if you have a problem, we can talk about it-”

“Actually, I don’t have any problems anymore. I’m free now-” Haechan stops when Mark grabs his hand.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Mark says slowly. “But please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, Mark, but I can’t help it,” Haechan tries to pull his hand free, but Mark’s grip is really tight for a mortal. Or Haechan’s physical form is just giving up on him. “I’m not even supposed to be here in the first place.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, Mark, I can’t explain it.”

“Please try.”

“I really can’t Mark, you’d never get it-”

“But I will. Just try. I always get you.” Mark tightens his hand around Haechan’s. “You’re my soulmate.”

Haechan feels the whole world stop as if Doyoung’s pulled it to a halt, but he hasn’t. “W- What?”

“You’re my soulmate.” Mark repeats, holding up his free wrist to flash the circle at Haechan.

Haechan tries to look for Doyoung’s presence, but the latter seems to be hiding. “No, that can’t be-”

“What do you mean?” Mark’s starting to get angry now, throwing his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t have the circle before I met you. I got it right after I met you. I didn’t meet anyone else new that day, or that hour, or whatever – Haechan, it’s _you_!”

Haechan’s suddenly very dizzy. He stumbles back onto the nearest chair. “You _can’t_ be my soulmate.”

“Why? Who else could it be! Who the hell-”

“Because I don’t have one!” Haechan pulls his hoodie sleeve back up to his elbow. He practically shoves his empty wrist in Mark’s face. “There! That’s what I’ve been hiding! I don’t have a fucking soulmate! So you can’t be mine-”

“There’s got to be some mistake…” Mark’s eyes are starting to water, and Haechan doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“Yeah.”

“But you’re really my soulmate, maybe you just have a little glitch in your birthmark or-”

“Mark, I _can’t_ be your soulmate, because I _can’t_ have one.” Haechan says, more sternly than he’d planned to, but he wants this over with. His head and heart are starting to ache, and he’s just about ready to throw up, die, or both. “I’m a god. We don’t have soulmates.”

“Y- You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Mark… Oh fuck it, Doyoung, let me show him okay?” Haechan shouts at the room. When no one replies, he balls his hand into a fist.

The gold glow comes back, weakly, but definitely there. It streaks out between his fingers and leaves beams around the room.

Haechan lets go, and all of Mark’s posters come tumbling down completely by accident and all at once. “See? I’m a minor god of luck. I’m not a mortal like you, and I don’t have a soulmate-”

“Th- then why are you mine?” Mark manages to stammer out, turning away from the walls to look at Haechan with those watery eyes.

“I don’t fucking know! You’re probably mistaken-!”

“You know what, I don’t care what you are!” Mark shouts right back at Haechan. “We have a special understanding- What we have is special, okay! And that’s all there is to it, right?”

“No, no- Goddammit, Mark, please fucking listen to me. I’m a god, and you’re a mortal. We _don’t_ understand each other, and we never will. Because we’re just too different.” Haechan groans. He’s starting to sound like Doyoung. “I was being punished for some crazy shit I said, but now I’m going home. To the other gods.”

Mark’s brow furrows and unfurrows, then furrows again. “Will you still come back?”

“No, Mark, never,” Haechan hates this stupid body, because he’s crying again. Twice in one day? This body is _weak_. “I’m never coming back, because I don’t belong here.”

“But-” Mark dries his eyes on his forearm. “You do.”

Haechan rubs his eyes on his hoodie sleeve. “Stop saying things like that, Mark. You don’t get it.”

“But I do,” Mark says gently. “You don’t want to leave, do you?”

Haechan shakes his head.

“Then don’t.” Mark reaches out for Haechan’s hands. “It’s that simple.”

With a dull glow of white light, Doyoung appears. “It’s not that simple. I have to bring Haechan home now.”

Mark isn’t even surprised by Doyoung. “Please don’t.”

“Can I have a little more time?” Haechan asks. “Just a few more years.”

“No, that’s not enough.” Mark squeezes Haechan’s hand.

“Then just while Mark’s here,” Haechan corrects himself. “When Mark’s gone, I’ll go straight home. I promise.”

Doyoung frowns at them both.

Haechan drops to his knees. “Please, even just until Mark meets his soulmate, I won’t get between them, I swear-”

“You already _are_ his soulmate, Haechan.” Doyoung says tensely. “Let’s go.”

But Haechan doesn’t budge. “What?”

“The god of fate assigned Mark to you. You’re his soulmate, though you can’t have a soulmate of your own.” Doyoung explains. He glances at Mark, who’s stunned to silence. “You know what, I’ll just wipe your memories later.”

Haechan stands up, hands balled into fists, but he’s not summoning any power. He’s just fucking _pissed_. “You mean he screwed up Mark’s whole _life_ just to teach me a lesson?”

“To _help you understand_ ,” Doyoung says.

“What does he think Mark is? Something he can just throw away-”

“He’s just one mortal,” Doyoung says. “In the grand scheme of things-”

“Fuck the grand scheme of things!” Haechan shoves Doyoung by the chest. “This is Mark’s _only_ life! And your boss fucking screwed with it just because I don’t agree with his stupid, fucked up system-”

Doyoung holds up a hand, freezing Haechan in place. “You forget you’re still in a mortal body, Haechan.”

“What did you do to him?” Mark asks, reaching for Haechan, whose entire body has gone rigid.

“Don’t worry, he’s not hurt.” Doyoung assures Mark. “I’m going to take him home now before he says anything to change the elder gods’ minds.”

“No.” Mark steps in front of Haechan.

“Pardon?”

“No.” Mark holds his arms out as if to shield Haechan. “I’m not letting you take him.”

“Mark – That’s your name right? Well, _Mark_ , that’s not for you to decide.” Doyoung says. “Haechan’s coming home now-”

“No.” Mark steps back until he can feel Haechan behind him. “He’s staying right here.”

Doyoung sighs. “I’m sorry about this, but it’s what’s best for Haechan. I’m really sorry.”

Mark glances down at the white light seeping out from inside Doyoung’s fist, and that’s the last thing he remembers.

Because Doyoung forgets to wipe his memories.

⚪

“Welcome home, Haechan!”

“Fuck you,” Haechan practically spits at the god of fate when the latter runs up to him with a big hug waiting. He stomps on the glowing marble floors. “Fuck you and your stupid system that’s making people unhappy-”

“I’m so sorry about him,” Doyoung cuts in, clamping a hand over Haechan’s mouth to freeze him. “I really can’t control him.”

The god of fate laughs. “Haechan? I doubt you ever will.”

Doyoung looks genuinely offended. “ _Taeil_!”

“What? This is _our_ Haechan we’re talking about.” Taeil moves Doyoung’s hand off Haechan’s mouth, unfreezing Haechan. “So how have you been, Haechan?”

“Fucking miserable.” Haechan says, reaching out to grab the god of fate by the robes, but the angel is quicker and stops Haechan’s hand.

“If you hurt Taeil, you’re going to suffer something far worse than being a mortal for a few years,” Doyoung snaps at him.

“Come on, let him go.” Taeil frowns at Haechan. “What’s wrong? I thought we were all on the same side now?”

Haechan stares at him, mouth agape because he can’t believe how pleasant this son of a bitch is being to him right now.

“What’s wrong, Haechan?” Taeil asks.

“H- How could you do that to Mark?” Haechan doesn’t know why he’s starting to tear up again. He’s back in his godly body, he knows because he feels much lighter and everything just comes easier, but for some reason, he’s still as much of a crybaby as he was when he was a mortal.

Taeil only smiles vaguely.

“It might not seem like much to you,” Haechan blinks, one tear rolling down each cheek. “But that’s his only life. It means everything to him.”

“And why do you care?” Taeil asks.

“Because you can’t just do that to mortals, it’s cruel, and-”

“Would you have cared if it weren’t Mark?”

Haechan doesn’t hesitate to shout, “Yes, of course! I’m not an asshole! No mortal deserves to be led on like that!”

“Oh.” Taeil frowns. “But don’t you care more, because it’s him?”

“Oh, you think that making me feel like someone’s my soulmate will make me appreciate it more?” Haechan scoffs. “Yeah, well, I did think Mark was special for some time. But then I figured that every fucking mortal on that godforsaken earth is special, and none of them deserve to be _played_ with like this.”

“Haechan, if the elder gods hear you…” Doyoung warns, looking around nervously.

“Let them! They ought to know that the stupid games they play with mortals’ lives are fucking rude!” Haechan calls out into the high-ceilinged temple. “HEY ELDER GODS, SHOW YOUR CRUSTY ASSES!”

“Haechan, please, they might send you away again,” Taeil says.  

“You know what, let them.” Haechan says. “I’m _done_.”

“With what?” Doyoung and Taeil ask.

“With being a god.” Haechan says. “If being a god means we think we can fuck around with mortals’ lives just because they live differently from us, then I don’t want to be one.”

“Haechan, you don’t know what you’re saying-”

“I’d rather be a mortal. Live and die without fucking ruining people’s lives.” Haechan says, starting to feel the tingling sensation of the elder gods arriving. “Glad you guys could make it from your busy schedule of fucking around with mortals.”

“Haechan, don’t talk to your elders that way,” Doyoung snaps, but Taeil puts a hand gently on his arm. Doyoung shrinks away immediately.

“Haechan, you really need to think this through.” Taeil says. “Think about what you’re asking for.”

“Oh, I’d rather not live forever if it’s just going to be a crappy forever,” Haechan looks around at the elder gods assembled in the massive glowing marble temple. “You guys have a lot to learn from the mortals.”

He grins at the scandalized gasps from the elder gods. _That feels good._

“Like hobbies? You guys need better hobbies than messing with people’s lives,” Haechan says. “And Mario Kart. This pantheon needs Mario Kart.”

“Haechan.” One of the oldest gods says, hand already balls into a fist of red flames. “Such words are not taken lightly-”

“Good. Because you definitely need some changes around here. Maybe get a soft serve machine while you’re at it. You people need more ice cream.”

Taeil squeezes Haechan’s forearm gently. “Please be serious.”

“I am.” Haechan looks the flaming-hand god in the eye and says, “Go ahead, make me a mortal. I’d rather be a mortal than end up like yo-”

Haechan blinks then, and when he opens his eyes, the temple and all the elder gods, and the god of fate, and Doyoung – they’re all gone.

“Haechan?” A familiar voice calls from across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's the end of the Haechan interlude/Christmas Special, i got fucking carried away but I love Haechan more than any other boy on this godforsaken planet and HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!


	11. Car Trouble Saves The Day...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wow.” Jaehyun says in a low voice. “Thanks.”
> 
> “What else was I supposed to do? You’re in my way.” Taeyong grumbles, spinning on one heel to walk away.

_Present_

Ten blinks. He’s pretty sure there are no ways to even describe the narrow odds that Johnny and his new boyfriend would end up having car trouble right in front of Ten and Taeyong.

_This whole mess just_ screams _Haechan._ Ten looks around, expecting to see Haechan’s bright little face lurking behind one of the cars in the lot somewhere. But he doesn’t, of course. He knows Haechan isn’t coming back.

_Damn it, I really miss that kid… god. Whatever._

“Need any help, man?” Taeyong calls out through the window, the irritation clear in his voice.

“Oh, uh, no thanks,” Johnny’s new boyfriend calls out in that annoying, pleasant voice. He turns back to say something to Johnny, but Johnny’s too busy staring back at Ten with this blank, deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

Ten’s sure he looks that way too. He hasn’t run into Johnny in weeks, either.

_Not since he left you hanging after you almost fucking died._

“Jesus,” Taeyong grumbles as he rolls his window up, watching Johnny and his boyfriend step out to push their car out of the way. “Some people really shouldn’t own cars.”

Ten almost laughs. “You’re really such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Taeyong says, drumming his fingers impatiently on the wheel. “But am I wrong? Oh god, they haven’t even gotten the car out of the way and they just started fighting… God…”

Ten looks out to find Johnny’s new boyfriend trying to argue with Johnny, in that bland, pleasant way he does things, but Johnny’s clearly getting upset.

There’s this voice in Ten’s head – it’s _his_ voice, but it’s telling him to stay out of it, that if Johnny and his boyfriend are arguing then, he shouldn’t meddle, and Ten’s not thought that before. _Something is seriously wrong with you these days. First you miss your annoying teenage neighbor now you want to leave Johnny and his starchy, bland boyfriend alone? Who_ are _you?_

Ten ignores the voice and, like a man possessed, unclips his seatbelt and steps out.

“Hey.” Ten says, walking over as purposefully as he can. “Do you guys need any help?”

“I said we were fine.” Jaehyun says tensely. _You knew his name the whole time, Ten, stop playing_.

“Well, _fine_ means you can move your car out of the way.” Ten says. “You’re wasting my friend’s time… and gas.”

“ _Friend_?” Johnny asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Ten’s beyond amused that he latched onto that of all things, but he’s not about to let hope back into his dumbass heart. “Yeah, and he’s not really _friendly_ to other people, so I suggest you get this fixed before he loses it.”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun says, glaring at Johnny. “Please tell your _ex_ to shut up.”

Ten feels a little bad that Johnny’s ended up in this terrible position, but the fact that Johnny’s gaze is now flitting between looking at him and Jaehyun is doing wonders for Ten’s self-esteem.

“Uh…” Johnny chews on his lip.

“It’s okay, Johnny, I’ll shut up.” Ten says, putting his hands up in defeat. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn y-”

Taeyong’s door flies open and slams shut. “What the hell is the problem?” He growls.

“It’s stuck.” Jaehyun growls back, giving the car a hard shove just to prove it. The car budges only a little bit, but the wheels don’t even turn.

“Some people really shouldn’t be buying cars if they don’t even know…” Taeyong mutters under his breath, nudging Jaehyun out of the way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jaehyun asks, too taken aback to stop Taeyong from messing with his car.

“Trying to figure out what’s wrong, _duh_ ,” Taeyong sits in the driver’s seat before Jaehyun can even whine. “Well of course it’s not going to move, it’s on park-”

“It won’t go to neutral. It’s stuck.” Jaehyun says. “Like I told you.”

“Shit.” Taeyong says, trying and failing to put the car on neutral. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Jaehyun mutters. “It’s my car, I know what’s wrong with it.”

Taeyong stares up at Jaehyun for a moment that drags on for a hell of a long time. It’s got a strange kind of energy, Taeyong being in Jaehyun’s seat, glowering up at him, and Ten is vaguely amused at how palpable the tension is between them.

“Can it be fixed?” Johnny cuts in, completely oblivious to the staring contest going on between his boyfriend and Ten’s soulmate.

“It’s not unfixable,” Taeyong says, getting out of the car suddenly. “But it’s fucking expensive. Does your insurance cover towing at least?”

Jaehyun groans. “No.”

Taeyong reaches into his pocket. Then he pulls out his phone and starts going through his contacts.

Johnny frowns and looks at Ten, who looks down at the pavement self-consciously.

Jaehyun frowns up at Taeyong. “What… are you doing?”

“I know a guy who owns a towing company and repair shop, and he owes me one,” Taeyong mutters at him, before someone picks up on the other side. “Hey! What’s up, man. Yeah, same here…Yeah, about that favor you owe me…”

Jaehyun’s scowl lightens up a little, curling up into a bemused grimace. “Uh…”

“Thanks, thanks. Yeah. I’ll call you back soon. Yup. Bye.” Taeyong pockets his phone again and turns to Jaehyun. “They should be here in ten minutes.”

“Wow.” Jaehyun says in a low voice. “Thanks.”

“What else was I supposed to do? You’re in my way.” Taeyong grumbles, spinning on one heel to walk away.

Ten closes the car door behind him, then turns to Taeyong. “Didn’t know you had a philanthropist streak in you.”

Taeyong doesn’t reply, he just backs the car up a little bit, then goes into the first empty parking slot and switches the engine off. “That towing service had better not be late.”

Luckily for everyone involved, the towing service arrives in five minutes. Ten hadn’t noticed that it had only been five minutes, because he’d spent those five minutes standing in a parking lot sharing an awkward silence with his soulmate, his ex-boyfriend, and his ex-boyfriend’s new boyfriend. Best way to spend a Sunday evening.

_Dammit Haechan._

Ten only manages to breathe normally again when Jaehyun’s climbing the tow truck. Jaehyun had argued with Johnny for a full minute to make the latter “go home ahead”, which had made Ten’s spine prickle with pettiness. _Do they live together now? Really?_

“Oh, Mr. Lee?” The tow truck driver scratches the back of his neck, clearly bothered by Taeyong’s perfectly tailored, skintight jeans.

“Yes?” Taeyong frowns.

“The boss said you have to go to the shop, too,” The driver says.

“Pardon?”

“He said you have to go with them,” Ten repeats for the driver’s sake.

“I know, I heard him, but what…” Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Oh god.” He leans in to whisper in Ten’s ear, “If I don’t show up for the meeting tomorrow, it’s because my ass is gonna be too wrecked to do anything.”

“Oh, is it _that_ kind of friend?” Ten whispers back.

“Why? Did you think you were special?” Taeyong sighs and follows the tow truck driver back to the truck.

Ten almost grins when he sees how clearly pissed off Jaehyun is at getting stuck with Taeyong for the entire ride to the repair shop, however long that takes. Ten even waves goodbye, catching a glimpse of Jaehyun’s and Taeyong’s eye rolls as they drive off.

“How are you getting home?”

Ten had forgotten that Johnny was just standing there next to him. _Forgotten about Johnny? Who the hell are you and what have you done with the real Ten?_ “Uh… Dunno.”

“Should we… split a cab?” Johnny looks around like he’s worried someone’s watching them. “That’s okay, right?” He adds, though not to Ten.

Ten smiles at him anyway.

_Forget what I said, Haechan, you’re amazing, I’m never doubting you again. Best minor god ever._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Doyoung picks up a plastic orange from the plastic fruit bowl in his motel room and throws it at the TV. Ten and Johnny keep stealing glances at each other in the backseat of a cab, oblivious of and unbothered by the plastic apples, oranges, and bananas being hurled at the screen.

“Stop wasting food!” Taeil materializes on the carpet, picking up the fruits in a mad scramble. “Don’t you know how many mortals are starving out there?”

“They’re not real fruits, Taeil.” Doyoung mutters, picking up one of the oranges in one hand. With a bright flash of light from his palm, the plastic begins to melt into a goopy mess of orange and black.

“Oh.” Taeil drops the fruits back into the bowl and sits sheepishly at the edge of the bed. “Why would they lie about _fruit_?”

“Because this place is too cheap to give its customers real fruit,” Doyoung gestures around the slightly damp motel room. “Which is why I told you not to come here.”

“I haven’t been back in a while,” Taeil shrugs. “I thought I’d try to see for myself what’s been happening.”

“It’s a fucking mess.” Doyoung flops onto the covers next to Taeil with a dramatic sigh.

Taeil lays down next to him, watching Johnny and Ten exchange awkward goodbyes on the TV screen. “It’s not your job to fix it, you know.”

Doyoung’s face flushes as red as the plastic apple. “I- I wasn’t really trying that hard, it’s not like I was-”

“I know, I know,” Taeil gives him an exasperated, but caring smile. “But no more meddling, okay?”

“What if Haechan or some other _pest_ tries to-”

“No more meddling.” Taeil says firmly.

“No more meddling.” Doyoung echoes with another dramatic sigh. Then he kicks at the covers like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “But they’re ruining all your hard work!”

Taeil throws a pillow at Doyoung. “Haechan was right, you know…”

Doyoung glares at him, pillow hanging over his head. “Please choose your next words carefully.”

Taeil starts laughing. “Come on, Dongyoung, you know he’s actually kinda right.”

“I’ll accept it with a quantifier.” Doyoung shakes the pillow off his head.

“It’s just…” Taeil lays back, resting his head on his hands. “I started this whole soulmate thing with good intentions, right?”

Doyoung glares at him again. “It’s a good idea. The mortals need all the help they can get.”

“But it’s a little pretentious of us to think we can tell them what to do, just because we’re older and we think we know what’s best for them?”

“Um, no?”

Taeil just shrugs, settling into the springy motel bed. “I just think we might be wrong about mortals in general. Maybe they know more than we think. They made this thing,” Taeil picks up the remote and flips to a shopping channel. He gawks at the juicer onscreen for a moment. “It’s _amazing_.”

“A TV? They’ve had those for almost a century. I think.” Doyoung makes a face.

“See? I think we have to trust the mortals with themselves a little,” Taeil says. “And we could learn some things from them.”

“Please don’t tell me you want to be a mortal too, now.” Doyoung frowns. “What’ll happen to _me_ then? I can’t be nobody’s angel.”

“Don’t worry, Doyoung, I’m not gonna leave you like that,” Taeil rests a warm hand on Doyoung’s arm. “I just think that we need to get to know the mortals better again.”

Doyoung makes a face. “ _Demigods_?”

Taeil gags. “Oh no, no more _demigods_. Nope. Never again.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Jaehyun’s evening is dragging on for so long that he’s surprised the sun hasn’t risen yet.

It’s not a bad evening, though. His car’s completely fucked but, but at least he’d had a pretty nice date with Johnny. Who’s pretty nice. Pretty and pretty nice. A little bland and _celibate_ for Jaehyun’s taste, but Jaehyun’s not about to go questioning the god of fate.

_Please don’t smite me,_ Jaehyun prays internally, glancing up at the ceiling of the auto repair shop like he’s trying to shoot straight to heaven.

“You can go, you know.”

Jaehyun blinks. “Huh?”

Taeyong’s smile looks a little strained. “You can go home. I’ll wait for whatever shit they’re trying to do. Unless you want to pay?”

Jaehyun’s ears grow pink. “Uh, no thanks.”

They both stand there for a moment too long.

Taeyong narrows his eyes. “What is it?”

“I… uh…” Jaehyun’s ears are scarlet by now. “Where do you think I can get a cab around here?”

“Just turn left and go down the street.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks.” Jaehyun turns to the door, and stops with one hand on the handle. “Um…”

“What?”

“It’s just that I… it’s not that I’ve _never_ … but I kind of never have…” Jaehyun turns back to Taeyong with a square grimace. “But _how_ do you get a cab?”

Taeyong laughs, choking on the greasy air for a second, before frowning at Jaehyun’s deeply hurt expression. “Are you fucking serious?”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Jaehyun was fucking serious. And, Taeyong finds out, he’s also kind of cute when he’s too sleepy to argue.

Taeyong shrugs his shoulder once, trying to slide to the other side of the backseat of this taxi. Jaehyun jerks awake,

“Oh fuck I’m sorry,” Jaehyun mumbles, leaning self-consciously against the window. He rubs his eyes and squints out the fogged glass. “Where are we?”

“We’ve only been driving for 10 minutes.”

“Oh, what? Really?” It’s dark, but Jaehyun’s ears are red again, and it’s not because of the stoplight. “Shit.”

“It’s a bad idea, leaving them alone like that.” Taeyong says.

However surprised Jaehyun is that Taeyong’s suddenly changed the subject, Taeyong’s a thousand times that.

“Whom?”

“Your boyfriend. And Ten.” Taeyong says.

Jaehyun’s eyes open all the way. “You think so?”

“I already warned you before, didn’t I?”

“Oh,” Jaehyun leans his forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Right. The hospital. That was you.”

“How could you forget me?” Taeyong asks, affronted.

“Don’t know. You have a pretty distinctive face, don’t you?” Jaehyun laughs, then turns to Taeyong with an anxious look. “You don’t think Ten would really…?”

“Oh, Ten?” Taeyong shrugs. “I’m sure Ten won’t try anything.”

“Good.” Jaehyun leans back against the fuzzy carseat cover.

“It’s Johnny I’m not so sure about.”


	12. Big Yellow Taxi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny tightens his hold on Ten’s hand. 
> 
> “I love you.” is all Johnny manages to say.
> 
> “I love you, too,” Ten says.

 Ten watches Johnny shift around uncomfortably in his peripheral vision. _At least I still make him uncomfortable_.

“Hey, Ten?”

“Uh-huh?” Ten turns to him, eyebrows lifted innocently.

“You still live… at the same address, right?” Johnny asks.

Ten looks Johnny in the eye. _Are you asking… what I think you’re asking?_

“What about you?” Ten asks.

“Yeah,” Johnny chuckles. “I don’t really know what I was expecting, it’s not like we hadn’t spoken in _years_.”

“It’s just been a few months, Johnny, no need to be a drama queen.”

Johnny laughs, and it’s such an unguarded, dorky noise that Ten’s heart aches just listening to it.

“We should catch up sometime,” Ten says before he even realizes it. _No, Ten, you_ can’t _-_

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees, making a face at himself.

Ten waits for Johnny to say something again, because Ten doesn’t trust himself to continue this conversation.

Johnny clears his throat, and Ten literally holds his breath waiting for what Johnny’s going to say next, but Johnny just starts humming some song mostly on tune.

Ten watches a familiar 24-hour café whizz past the window. _Shit._ If all the roads are as empty as this one, then they’re only five minutes away from Ten’s apartment.

_That’s all for the best._ The voice in Ten’s head says. _Then you can get back to your life._

Ten elects to ignore the voice again.

“Johnny.” Ten says, hoping he doesn’t sound too urgent.

“Yeah?”

“Does Jaehyun always talk to you like that?”

Ten ignores the embarrassment welling up in his stomach, and the voice in his head insisting he drop the subject _now_.

“Like what?” Johnny asks.

“Like…He’s talking down to you.” Ten says. “Like a while ago.”

Johnny’s frown is visible even in the passing streetlight flashing through the window. “He was?”

“You didn’t notice?”

“…Nope.”

“Well, he was,” Ten says sternly. “And I don’t like it.”

“Wait, I don’t get it, what do you mean, _talking down to me_ ,” Johnny’s frown only grows deeper. “Jaehyun’s really nice to me.”

“He talks to you like you’re dumb.” Ten says.

“Well, I’m not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box, Ten.”

It’s Ten’s turn to frown. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though. I’m not that smart, and I’m not that good at anything – I draw fucking greeting cards for a living, Ten, that’s nothing to be proud of.” Johnny sinks back into the itchy backseat. “ _And_ I’m stuck dating a guy I don’t really want to be with because some angel made me-”

“What.”

“I, uh,” Johnny’s face glows red without the help of any brake lights. He glances up nervously. “Forget I said anything.”

“You can’t just say things like that and expect me to act like it’s not-”

“I made a deal with the angel, okay?” Johnny looks around, and when time keeps rolling along as usual and no bright lights nearly blind them, he continues, “I was really scared after that time the elevator broke down. So I made a deal with him. He’d leave us alone if I just stayed away from you and stuck to my soulmate.”

“But you don’t want to.” Ten’s head is swimming. He feels drunk, but he isn’t. Not a single thought in his head is anywhere near coherence aside from: _This is awful_.

“Jaehyun’s nice and all – Well, maybe not so nice if he does talk down to me,” Johnny shrugs. “But I don’t love him.”

Ten doesn’t know what to say. The taxi rolls to a stop right outside Ten’s apartment building, but Ten doesn’t move.

“Johnny…”

“Oh my god, please forget I said anything-”

Ten reaches for the door handle. “Good night, Johnny.”

“Wait,” Johnny reaches out and grabs Ten’s free hand, though it’s much gentler than a grab, he just clings to it gently, like if Ten flinched just a little, he would let go. “Please stay? I’m not – I don’t know what to do, Ten.”

Ten lets go of the door handle, taking Johnny’s hand in his. Johnny’s looking up at him with watery, lost eyes, and Ten knows that he can’t leave Johnny like this.

_You can_ not _go home with him._

_He already told you he’d made some kind of deal with that angel. Who knows what that bitch will do to Johnny if you make him break the deal._

_Do what’s best for everyone, Ten._

“Have I told you about my boss?” Ten asks.

Johnny frowns. “What about him?”

“He filed for a divorce from his husband.” Ten continues. “They were soulmates, they’d been together for around 20 years, and they had a son and everything. But they filed for a divorce anyway.”

“I- I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. They threw the divorce case out yesterday.” Ten says. “They’re back together again.”

“Oh.” Johnny’s frown eases up only a little bit. “That’s good for them, I guess?”

“Yeah, it is.” Ten purses his lips. “But I don’t get it at all. I went through their case. They had every reason to go through with it, but it seems like one tiny thing their son had said over dinner convinced them to let all their time and everything go to waste.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but the taxi driver clears his throat pointedly. He’s not being paid to listen to Ten’s pointless gay drivel, so Ten forgives him. “Sorry, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He turns back to Johnny.

“What I’m trying to say is that this soulmate shit makes no sense to me, and it probably never will. But it seems to work, so it’s not our place to mess with it.” Ten admits. He thinks of Haechan. “Even other gods can’t mess with fate, Johnny. It’s way, way beyond us.”

Johnny tightens his hold on Ten’s hand.

“I love you.” is all Johnny manages to say.

“I love you, too,” Ten says. “But if it’s not meant to happen, then it’s just not. I’m not about to risk either of our lives for love.”

“I would.”

“I won’t let you.” Ten drops Johnny’s hand and opens the car door. “Bye, Johnny.”

“Ten-”

“Bye.” Ten closes the taxi car door and turns away, walking into the building without a single backward glance. He’s feeling more mature than he ever has in his entire life, and he thought he’d feel lighter, too, after letting Johnny go like that, after finally going with the Grand Scheme of Things that the God of Fate wanted, but he just feels like crap.

Ten slides down to sit on the floor when he closes his apartment door behind him. He shuts his eyes.

“Hey, God of Fate, if you’re out there,” Ten says, his voice echoing almost reverentially in the room. “Fuck you.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

“Are we just gonna let him _blaspheme_ you like that?” Doyoung gasps, squeezing the god of fate’s arm.

“He’s just made a really tough decision,” Taeil pats Doyoung’s hand. “Let him be.”

“Sure, like it’s such a _tough_ decision not to go home with someone else’s boyfriend.” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “He’s grown some decency. Big whoop.”

Taeil watches Ten sob into the knees of his jeans through the TV screen. “Does this happen a lot, Doyoung?”

“Humans making good decisions? Not at all.”

“No, Doyoung, _this,_ ” Taeil gestures at the screen, where Ten is digging through his refrigerator for something sweet.

“Yeah, it’s something they call _binge-eating_.” Doyoung leans back on the motel bed’s pillows. “Don’t get too torn up over him, he’ll be over it soon enough.”

“But…” Taeil’s sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes glued to the screen. “This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s supposed to be content with his soulmate. My system is supposed to help him.”

“Like I said, he’s just being all dramatic right now, but he’ll be fine again soon enough. They’re just very selfish, self-centered creatures, and they get so upset over the smallest things. But it blows over just as quickly,” Doyoung reaches for the remote. “You’ll see.”

Taeil opens his mouth to reply, but Doyoung’s just changed the channel back to the home shopping channel, and he gets hypnotized by a fancy new juicer.

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Johnny is baffled when Jaehyun carries on cutting his waffles calmly the next morning.

“I’m breaking up with you.” Johnny says again, just in case Jaehyun had missed it somehow. He keeps his voice low, so the rest of the people in the restaurant don’t have to hear it, but enunciates each syllable clearly so Jaehyun can’t possibly miss it this time.

“Okay.” Jaehyun drizzles some more maple syrup on his waffles.

Johnny frowns. “Are you like, uh, okay? With that?”

“Yeah.” Jaehyun assures him. “Don’t worry about me. What about you, are you okay with it?”

“Yes…?” Johnny says, and he’s not lying for a change. Breaking up with Jaehyun lifted a ton off his shoulders. “You’re not… mad at me or anything?”

“Of course not,” Jaehyun’s smile is as sweet as ever. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” _What would I be mad about?_

“Then we’re good.” Jaehyun claps Johnny on the shoulder. “I guess I should ask the boss for a new partner, then.”

“No, we can still be partners,” Johnny says. “Nothing has to change. Unless you want a new partner-”

“Do you think I really want to get into working with a whole new partner?” Jaehyun laughs. “No way. I’ll keep you for as long as I can, if that’s okay with Ten.”

Johnny chokes on thin air. “Ten?”

“Oh. I thought… “ Jaehyun’s face warms up. “I thought you and Ten-”

“No, we’re done.” Johnny says, hoping Jaehyun doesn’t pick up on the bitterness in his voice. “We’ve _been_ done.”

“Oh.”

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

Ten wakes up with an empty box of brownies next to his head. Which is on the floor.

He rolls over, feeling a thousand times more terrible than the night before, because his back just can’t take sleeping on the cold hard floor anymore.

He reaches groggily for his phone in his pocket, which has been buzzing for the past couple of minutes.

“Hello?” He answers, before checking who’s calling. _Idiot. What if it’s Johnny?_

“Good morning, Ten.” Taeyong’s voice is overly cheerful. “How was your night?”

“Fucking awful.”

“Sorry to hear that, but I think I’ve got just the news for you.” Taeyong’s voice trails off, replaced by a few loud gulps of what Ten guesses is coffee. “Remember your Johnny’s boyfriend?”

“Taeyong, I’m really not in the mood-”

“Well, I fucked him.”

Ten sits up, jolted awake as if by electricity. “What the hell, Taeyong?”

“Seems like he’s tired of your man. Doesn’t sound like they were _doing_ much.”

Ten gasps. “Taeyong, you _didn’t_.”

“Oh, I did. Pretty good lay, too, I might call him up again.” Taeyong laughs on the other end. “Anyway, you can thank me later.”

“Why would I _thank_ you?”

“Because now that Johnny’s boyfriend’s a dirty cheater, you can out him to Johnny and take Johnny for yourself,” Taeyong sounds like he’s smiling on the other end.

“That’s terrible.”

“You’re welcome.” Taeyong says. “You’d better hurry, though, before someone else snaps Johnny up.”

“I’m not going to ‘snap him up,’ Taeyong,” Ten sighs. “I’m done going against the gods.”

Taeyong’s end of the line is silent for a moment. “Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?”

Ten realizes what he’d just said. “Never mind, whatever. I’m not going to thank you for being a horrible person.”

“Oh, you will.” Taeyong laughs. “And am I really that much worse than you?”

Maybe a few months ago, Ten wouldn’t have been able to do anything but agree. But things are different now. He keeps thinking about Haechan – he really misses that little nerd – and how even _he_ couldn’t help Ten and Johnny sidestep their fate. If Haechan couldn’t do it, then no amount of blackmail on Taeyong’s part will do anything.  

“Yes, you are. Please don’t try to ‘help’ me again, Taeyong, I can manage.” Ten says. And when Taeyong’s end of the line is quiet for too long, he adds, “I’ll see you at the meeting later.”

“See you.” Taeyong hangs up.

Ten sits there in the middle of the floor, same clothes as the night before, feeling sick to his stomach.

_Maybe it was a bad idea to eat a whole box of brownies at 4am._

_No, you idiot, that’s not it._

Ten’s stomach sinks down to the floor.

_Poor Johnny._

⚪ ⚪ ⚪

 Attorney Kim Kibum has never gone back on his word before. He’s not sure if it’s a matter of pride or principle, but whatever’s at fault, he’s always said his piece and stuck with it. Well, until now.

“You sure about this, sir?”

“It’s going to be really fucking embarrassing for everyone involved if I back up now.” Kibum looks at his assistant in the reflection of the elevator mirror. _Ten’s been unusually kind these past few… days? Weeks?_ Kibum hadn’t noticed when Ten had started acting like a person and not a demon, and he’s not complaining, but some part of him is still waiting for his assistant to crack.

“You can always take it back, sir,” Ten says. “If you’re not sure.”

“I don’t pay you for advice, Ten.” Kibum straightens his tie in the mirror. He’d been saving this outfit for the last day in court, just so he could walk out one last time on his ex-husband in emerald green.

_This is what you get for being such a vain bitch, Kibum._

The elevator comes to a stop. Kibum takes a deep breath.

“We could always just… not go if you don’t want to, sir.”

“Ten, why do you care so much if I divorce my husband or not? It doesn’t concern you.” Kibum asks, stepping out of the elevator as soon as the doors open in a weird show of bravado.

“You’re right, sir. It doesn’t.”

Ten’s concerned glance sends shivers down Kibum’s spine. He walks on to meeting room without looking at his assistant again.

Kibum’s heart gives a little wiggle when he sees his husband, like it has every single time for the past twenty years. _Pathetic_.

“Hi darling,” His husband waves, like a complete dork.

_We’re really pathetic._ Kibum rolls his eyes as he replies, “Hello, dear.”

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” His husband’s lawyer asks. The poor guy looks like he hasn’t had any sleep. _Poor thing, he’s earning almost nothing out of this now._

Kibum’s fingers twitch when his husband reaches for his hand.

“Are you sure about this, darling?”

_Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’ve already decided to make a damn fool of myself._

Kibum sighs as he twines their fingers together. “Keep pestering me like that and maybe I’ll change my mind, Minho.”

⚪⚪⚪

Johnny thanks the cab driver and steps out onto the mossy sidewalk. There’s a leak from the side of the apartment building that hasn’t been fixed in decades, probably, and it’s making the entire street smell a bit rank.

But Johnny takes a deep breath anyway. He’s been waiting to get struck by lightning or smote in some other way the entire way here, but nothing’s happened to him yet. _That’s a good sign, right?_

“Johnny?”

Johnny turns around guiltily. “Oh, hello, good evening, Mrs. Takeuchi.”

“Good to see you around here again,” The elderly woman smiles, shifting the bags of groceries in her arms.

“Do you need any help with that?”

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart,” Mrs. Takeuchi smiles as Johnny takes a couple of bags from her.

He carries her groceries up to her apartment, which seems to have more cats than he remembered, and tries to graciously deny a giant plastic container of noodles. Then he finds himself in the dim hallway again, facing Ten’s door.

Surely Ten’s heard the noise from Mrs. Takeuchi’s side by now. There’s no way he isn’t aware that Johnny’s here right now.

Johnny takes another deep breath. _Maybe he doesn’t want to see you._

He knocks on the door. “Ten? It’s me.”

No one replies. _Maybe he’s not home_.

The shifting chink of light from under the door says otherwise.

“Mrs. Takeuchi let me in,” Johnny explains, knocking on the door more gently this time. “Ten, I just wanted to talk. I think we need to talk.”

The chink of light shifts again, then thins down to a small line. _Ten must be standing on the other side of the door._

“This is going to sound really sad, but I miss you.” Johnny doesn’t knock again. “When we were talking yesterday, I just… I know we can’t get back together, I get that, but I just want… Something, Ten, anything.”

Nothing.

“Ten?” Johnny’s voice has dropped to a hoarse whisper.

He hears footsteps on the other side of the door fade away.

Johnny can take a hint.


	13. You Can’t Fight Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten grabs a kitchen knife. “Can angels die?”
> 
> “Fucking hell, he’s gone insane.” Doyoung says to no one in particular.
> 
> “GOD OF FATE!” Ten shouts again, waving the kitchen knife wildly. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing right now, but when is he ever? “IF YOU DON’T COME HERE RIGHT NOW-”
> 
> “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” A new voice says, gentle and sleepy and nothing like Doyoung’s.

Someone’s knocking on Ten’s door. Ten rolls his eyes, wondering why they didn’t just use the doorbell like a normal person.

“Ten? It’s me.”

Ten puts his phone down and stands up.  

“Mrs. Takeuchi let me in,” Johnny knocks again. “Ten, I just wanted to talk. I think we need to talk.”

Ten pads over in his footsies, as if drawn by a magnet.

He doesn’t trust himself to open the door. And he doesn’t trust himself to stay away if he does.

 “This is going to sound really sad, but I miss you.”

Ten doesn’t trust himself at all. He knows he’s being cold, but if he pays any attention to Johnny now, everything’s going to pour in like water through a broken dam.

“When we were talking yesterday, I just… I know we can’t get back together, I get that, but I just want… Something, Ten, anything.”

_Don’t do it, Ten._

Ten reaches for the lock, but his hand stalls. The reasonable voice is back in his head again, telling him to just let Johnny go. _It’s what’s best for everyone._

_You can’t fight fate._

 “Ten?” Johnny sounds like he’s crying.

Ten steps away from the door, hearing Johnny’s sniffles on the other side of the door. His first and only instinct is to kick the whole fucking door down and throw his arms around Johnny, give him a kiss, and tell him everything’s going to be all right.   

  _You can’t fight fate,_ the voice repeats tensely.

Ten staggers back and sits back down on the couch.

_It’s just this once, then you never have to do this to him again._

Ten stays perfectly still until he hears Johnny’s footsteps echo in the hallway, then disappear down the stairwell.

_But this is Johnny we’re talking about_ , Ten argues with the voice in his head. _Johnny’s not going to quit just like that. He’ll try again, and I’ll have to be an asshole to him again..._

Ten balls his hands into fists. Hurting himself is something he can do, he’ll get over it, but hurting Johnny like that… _Absolutely not._

“Hey buck-toothed angel!” Ten shouts at the ceiling. “I know you’re watching! Get your flat ass here!”

The electric fan’s whirring stops.

Ten works very hard to hold back a grin. That angel’s always been so dependably petty.

“What do you want?” Doyoung asks from behind him.

Ten spins around on his footsies, trying to square up to the angel in his white denim glory, but he’s a lot taller than Ten had expected.

“I want to talk to your boss.” Ten says, channeling his inner baby boomer.

Doyoung heaves a sigh. “You can’t just-”

Ten grabs Doyoung by the throat. He shouts at the ceiling, “Hey! God of Fate! I’m gonna fucking strangle this bitch if you don’t show up right-!”

“S- Stop it!” Doyoung sputters, vanishing and materializing in a far, safe corner of Ten’s apartment. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

Ten grabs a kitchen knife. “Can angels die?”

“Fucking hell, he’s gone insane.” Doyoung says to no one in particular.

“GOD OF FATE!” Ten shouts again, waving the kitchen knife wildly. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing right now, but when is he ever? “IF YOU DON’T COME HERE RIGHT NOW-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” A new voice says, gentle and sleepy and nothing like Doyoung’s.

Ten blinks hard at the ball of pure light that’s just materialized in his apartment. “Are you the God of Fate?”

The ball shimmers, then fades into a man much younger and friendlier-looking than Ten had expected. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Put the knife _down_!” Doyoung barks, cowering behind the God of Fate.

“No! Not until I get what I want!” Ten swings the knife again, and the angel ducks completely behind the smaller, smiling god.

“Please?” The God of Fate asks. “Let’s just talk this over.”

“Fine.” Ten lowers the knife. He doesn’t feel compelled to do it by some kind of godly power, he just feels bad for being a crazy violent bitch around this nice guy… god. _Maybe that’s how his powers work?_

“Do you have any cookies in here?” The God of Fate peers over at Ten’s kitchen.

“Yeah. In the pantry.”

The God of Fate looks disproportionately excited over foil-wrapped chocolate chip cookies. “Amazing.”

Doyoung squints at the cookies, then glares at Ten, unfazed by the snacks. “Spit it out, mortal. The God of Fate doesn’t have all day-”

“Dongyoung, pwease,” The God of Fate says, mouth full of chocolate chip cookies. He smiles at Ten, teeth stained with chocolate. “Whash bowthewing you, Den?”

“Make your angel drop his deal with Johnny.” Ten says flatly.

“What… deal?” The God of Fate frowns at Doyoung, whose face gets a carroty red-orange glow.

“What was I supposed to do!” Doyoung crosses his arms.

“Leave them alone, maybe?” The God of Fate says.

Ten likes this god.

“They were ruining everything!”

“Just two people couldn’t possibly ruin _everything_ , Dongyoung.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“It’s your name.”

“Not anymore! I changed it _millennia_ ago!” Doyoung stamps a foot like an angry toddler. “Why don’t you ever listen to me!”

“I do little else, Dongyoung.” The God of Fate smiles.

Ten snorts, getting both beings (?) looking his way like they’d forgotten he was there. “Sorry.”

The God of Fate grimaces. “Sorry, the past century’s been rough on our relationship.”

Doyoung huffs. “That’s an understatement.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Ten says gingerly. “But what’s that got to do with me?”

“Nothing, really.” Doyoung says.

Ten straightens up. “So will you drop the deal or not?”

Doyoung opens his mouth to say something, but the God of Fate beats him to it. “Consider it _dropped_.”

Ten lifts his eyebrows. “That was… way easier than I expected.”

The God of Fate shrugs. “I never intended for any of this to be difficult. I’m sorry.”

“Why are _you_ apologizing!” Doyoung squawks. “You didn’t do anything wrong! It’s _my_ -”

“I’m sorry in behalf of my angel,” The God of Fate says, one hand clamped over Doyoung’s mouth. “He means well, but he gets a little, eh, _excited_ about helping me out.”

Doyoung’s face couldn’t get brighter red.

“It’s just that the soulmate system’s not been working well lately,” The God of Fate gives Ten a sheepish smile. He catches the frown on Ten’s face. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault or anything. I think it’s mine.”

Doyoung whines through the god’s palm.

“Are you taking suggestions?” Ten asks. “Because I think you should just scrap the whole thing.”

Doyoung looks ready to throw hands, but the God of Fate only laughs.

“A young god recently told me the same thing.”

Ten grins. He only knows one piece of shit who’d say that. “Haechan?”

“Haechan.” The God of Fate nods with an affectionate look in his eyes.

“Will you do it?” Ten’s amused at how red the angel’s face is getting, but he can’t get distracted now. “Scrap the whole soulmate thing?”

“I don’t know.” The God of Fate uncovers Dongyoung’s mouth. “Should I?”

“Of course _not_!” Doyoung’s voice squeaks. “We’re not throwing away _millennia_ of work just because a few oversensitive mortals are complaining about it!”

“Ouch.” Ten glowers at the angel. _Forget soulmates. Maybe the god should just scrap this angel._

“You’re not happy with your soulmate?” The God of Fate asks Ten.

Ten takes a moment to think about it. The god deserves that much.

“Well, I am,” Ten says slowly, ignoring the smug look on the angel’s face. “He’s probably one of the worst people on the planet right now, but I’m glad I met him.”

The God of Fate looks hopeful.

“But he’s not Johnny.”

There’s a moment of silence, the long, tense kind that people are always compelled to break with terrible adages like, _An angel passed overhead._

The angel in front of Ten looks ready to kill him. Doyoung’s palms are starting to glow.

“I know there’s a grand scheme to things, and that when I’m dead it won’t really matter who I was with when I was alive,” Ten says, backing away slowly, because the god’s face is beginning to darken. “But it matters to me, and I know it’s really bratty and stupid to say that-”

“It is.” Doyoung says, curling his hands into fists.

_Oh, now you’ve done it. You’ve pissed them off. Did you forget they were immortal and powerful and shit?_

Ten backs away some more, then his shins knock into the couch. _They’re not really gonna get rid of_ me _, right?_

_It’s not like I matter enough to keep alive, though._

He shuts his eyes. _So much for not risking my life for Johnny._

“I really don’t know mortals, do I?” The god asks sadly. His voice is softer, and echoes a bit less.

Ten peeks one eye open to find the god’s light dimmed down to a sickly mix of orange and green. He looks to the angel, expecting the latter to be worried, but Doyoung only rolls his eyes.

“Not again.”

Ten frowns. “This has happened before?”

Doyoung puts a protective arm around the god’s shoulders. “He went through a similar phase a thousand years ago.”

“Why?”

“ _Demigods_.” Doyoung groans, like that’s supposed to explain anything.

Ten watches the angel help the dejected god to the couch, murmuring things in a reassuring, lullaby kind of voice. Part of Ten is thinking he should make a break for it now that they’re distracted, but another part just tells him that they’d be able to find him anyway, no matter where he goes.

_What about “god” do you not understand, Ten?_

Ten takes a tentative step towards the couch. God or not, he feels bad for the guy. He knows what it’s like to put your entire life into something for it to fall it shit.

“Hey,” Ten puts a hand on the god’s arm, which is slimy and cold. “The soulmate thing isn’t all bad.”

“Go away.” Doyoung hisses.

Ten ignores him. “Maybe it’s not broken, maybe it just works differently from the way we understand it.”

The god heaves a sigh. “It’s the mortals who are different. I don’t understand you anymore.”

“Look, I’m just a dropout who baby-sits a grown man, so I can’t really claim to be the expert on how _mortals_ are these days,” Ten sits down at the edge of the couch, ready to run if things start getting life-threatening again. “But I don’t think we’ve changed much? People are pretty much the same as always.”

“Greedy, selfish, and shortsighted?” Doyoung offers.

Ten gives him a blank stare. This angel really doesn’t know when to fucking quit.

“No,” Ten says, patting the god’s clammy arm as affectionately as he can, when it feels like petting a fucking snake. “I mean that we all still just want _one_ thing.”

“Money?” Doyoung scoffs.

Ten laughs. “Nope.”

The god frowns. “What is it?”

Ten tells him.

 

⚪⚪⚪

Johnny wakes up to a clatter in the kitchen and hushed voices. It’s still dark, so he checks his phone and finds that it’s around three in the morning.

_Besides, I live alone, there should_ never _be other people in my kitchen._

Johnny reaches for a baseball bat leaning against the wall and tiptoes for the door.

_What if they have guns? Will you fucking bat the guns away?_

He opens it slowly, but the hinges give out a long, low creak. _Dammit._

He’s momentarily blinded by a bright flash from the kitchen, like a professional photographer’s working there. At three in the morning.

“What the-”

“Hello Johnny.”

Johnny blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light. It’s not any of his kitchen lights, it’s a man standing in the middle of the tiled floor, radiating a clean white light.

_It’s that angel again._

Johnny frowns. “Am I dead?”

“Not yet, but don’t worry, you’ll get there.” Doyoung rolls his eyes. Something jabs at him from behind, pushing him forward. Doyoung lets out a loud groan. “Fine, fine. I already said I’d do it, okay? Get off my fucking case.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“The deal’s off, Johnny.” Doyoung says. “You can forget your soulmate and date whoever you like, preferably not Ten- _Ow_!”

The angel stumbles forward into the kitchen island, pushed by an invisible force.

Johnny stifles a laugh. “Ten?”

Ten comes shimmering into view, along with another guy Johnny doesn’t recognize.

“Hi,” Ten says with a shy little smile. He notices Johnny staring at the guy behind him and laughs. “Oh, this is the God of Fate, but he likes to be called Taeil.”

Johnny’s eyebrows come together in a furrow of utter confusion. “What?”

“Hi.” _The… god of fate?... Taeil?_ The man waves at Johnny. “I’m sorry for all the trouble my angel’s caused-”

“Hey!” Doyoung whines.

“It’s okay,” Johnny says. “I’m sure he didn’t really mean… for any of that… to happen?”

“And I’m sorry you ended up with an awful soulmate,” The man looks at Ten, who nods. “I honestly don’t know how the whole thing works anymore.”

Johnny shakes his head. “Oh, no, my soulmate was nice.”

“No he wasn’t.” Ten says firmly.

“He just never liked you, but he’s nice to everyone else,” Johnny explains, but he can see the way Ten’s jaw is set. He’s not accepting criticism.

“If he’s only nice to certain people, then he’s not nice.” Ten says.

“Following that logic,” Doyoung says. “You’re not nice, either.”

“Did I ever claim to be?” Ten scoffs.

Johnny has to lean on the doorframe. “Wait, when did we become friends with… _Them_?”

 “We’re not friends.” Ten and Doyoung say at once. They frown at each other, like they’d rather die than agree on anything.

“We’re just here to try to fix things.” The god of fate says. “And I think we should be going now, Dongyoung.”

The angel flinches at the name, but all he says is, “You two better enjoy what’s left of your lives.”

Johnny frowns. “Are we dying soon?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Ten takes Johnny’s hand in his and squeezes it. “A thousand years is a short time for those freaks.”

Doyoung bristles. “I’d just like to remind you that we are immortal beings and-”

“We’re going now,” The god of fate holds the angel by the forearm. “Have a good life.”

“I hope I never see you again.” Doyoung mutters.

“Same here.” Ten says, resting his head on Johnny’s shoulder.

Johnny’s not entirely sure what’s going on, but the angel and the god vanish in a blink, and all that’s left is Ten’s cheek on his shoulder. And it feels nice.

“Baby?” Johnny asks, nuzzling his lips into Ten’s hair.

“Mm-hm?” Ten asks, wrapping his arms around Johnny.

Johnny pulls him closer. He’s confused, and happy, but mostly still confused. “What just happened?”

“I think we’re both tired and we should sleep,” Ten murmurs into the crook of Johnny’s neck. “I’ll explain it in the morning.”

“Okay.” Johnny tilts his chin down for a kiss, and then another. He can’t believe he’d forgotten what it was like to kiss Ten, but he’s making sure he’ll never forget again. He only pulls away when he’s out of breath. “We’re not getting any sleep tonight, are we?”

Ten smiles, lips turned up at the corners like a cat. “Hell no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is the writer trying to be classy or just too lazy to write the smut???? who knows


	14. Epilogue

Ten wakes up to find the bed empty next to him. He yawns and stretches out, listening to the front door open and close.

Ten reaches for a shirt and slips it on as he steps out of the bedroom. “Morning, baby.”

“It’s nearly noon,” Johnny hums, putting down some groceries on the counter.

Ten snuggles up to him from behind, burying his nose in Johnny’s sweater. “You smell like fish.”

“I bought some tuna.”

“I hate tuna.” Ten pouts.

“No, you don’t.” Johnny laughs, pinching Ten’s arm lightly to make him let go. Ten grumbles loudly as he starts putting some of the groceries away. He even tosses the tuna into the freezer, then goes immediately to wash his hands.

He’s rinsing the soap off his blank wrists, suddenly thinking about the morning that everyone in the world woke up with their birthmarks gone, when Johnny says, “I saw Haechan today.”

Ten looks at the tawny puppy currently chewing on the edge of their living room rug. “Um, yes, John, we see him every day.”

“Not the _dog_ Haechan,” Johnny laughs, scooping the puppy up in his arms. “The _boy_ Haechan. Though he’s not much of a boy anymore.”

Ten stops wiping his hands. “But… That can’t be.”

_Haechan went back to the home of the gods a few years ago._

_And he said he wasn’t coming back._

“Maybe it was someone else.” Ten says, drying his hands off so he can put away the rest of the groceries.

“No, it was definitely him. I even talked to him.” Johnny insists, tilting his face away when Haechan the puppy start attacking his chin with excited licks. “He’s studying in the same college I went to. Architecture.”

Ten stops, not really caring if the butter in his hands is starting to melt.

“He said he misses you,” Johnny says. “You should catch up with him sometime.”

Ten opens the refrigerator. “Yeah, maybe I should.”

_ _ _

Ten’s not cut a single class since he started studying again, and he’s only months away from graduating now, but he _needs_ to know. He drops Johnny off at work with a kiss then makes his way to Johnny’s college. He’s not sure how he’s going to find Haechan, if he ever will, but he just walks around aimlessly, ignoring the weird looks from the students, trusting things to work out in their own way.

“Ten?”

Because fate’s like that.

“Haechan!” Ten beams at the boy running towards him. Johnny’s right, though, Haechan’s not much of a boy anymore. Ten has to stagger back a few steps when Haechan tackles him into a hug. “Holy shit you’re _tall_.”

“Not tall enough,” Haechan pouts, fluffing up his hair self-consciously. “How have you been?”

“Good?” Ten frowns. “Wait, I don’t get it, what are you doing here?”

“I just got out of class,” Haechan says. “I’m going out for brunch. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, thanks, but I- The last time I saw you, you were going back …home… for good?”

“Oh, yeah, that was a mess,” Haechan scratches the back of his head like Ten’s brought up some embarrassing childhood story and not his being a _god_. “Everything’s been a mess, actually. Long story short, I’m _here_ for good.”

“W- Wha-” Ten stutters on a million questions. _Does that mean you’re not a god anymore? And that you’re going to_ die _? And you don’t have powers?_ Ten eventually settles on, “Why?”

“Oh, I…” Haechan looks over Ten’s shoulder and suddenly starts grinning from ear to ear. “I think I’m better off this way.”

“Hey Haechan,” A cute guy Ten vaguely recognizes comes jogging up to them. “I left my car in a towing zone, so we kind of have to… _go_. Now.”

Ten’s mind, in its current state, makes the connection. “Mark?”

Mark stares at Ten for a moment. “Oh, hey, you used to be Daddy’s assistant, right?”

“Yeah.” Ten looks up at the ceiling, as if asking the heavens, _What are the fucking odds?_ But he knows the heavens won’t reply, they haven’t bothered each other in years.

“Come on, we’ve got to go before Mark’s car gets fucking towed,” Haechan says, grabbing both Ten and Mark by the arms and dragging them out of the building.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Mark says to Ten, as pleasantly as he can while Haechan’s pulling him along.

“Nice to see you too.” Ten says. He stumbles, and he could’ve sworn he saw second hand on the building’s clock stall just a little bit longer than a second, and the light around him grow a little brighter than sunlight, but he gets his footing immediately after, and nothing else happens.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand that's the end of this story, thanks to everyone who left kudos & nice comments! ♡  
> not gonna lie this fic took forever for me to finish, but I hope it made your day a little better ♡♡♡


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